


Star Filled Memories

by RunWithWolves



Series: Tidbits and Timbits [5]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Carmilla Big Bang Challenge, Dragons, F/F, Space AU, my 75th carmilla story!, soulmate star map au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: All her life, Laura's wanted to see the stars and fill in every corner of the soulmate map growing across her skin. So she finds a rickety ship and a misfit crew to do just that; what she hadn’t counted on was Carmilla swaggering on board and blackmailing herself into the co-pilot seat.After 300 years, Carmilla only wants to run away from the Mother chasing her across the universe. Her soulmate tattoo, long gone dark, hardly matters as she blackmails her way onto some rundown ship that's perfect for slipping to the edges of space unnoticed. She just hadn’t counted on Laura discovering the dragon that she'd hidden in the ship's cargo bay and kidnapping her.When black holes start appearing from nowhere to swallow worlds, Laura’s determined to investigate. Carmilla's determined to be anywhere else.





	1. It Started In The Middle

**Author's Note:**

> Hollstein's going to space! with dragons and blasters and black holes and spaceships![ Look at the awesome art at kxrnsteins drew! ](https://ariabauer.tumblr.com/post/165383045914/star-filled-memories-a-carmilla-story-by) Let's just take every single sci-fi and fantasy concept we can get our hands on and throw them in a blender. Is this an experimental piece with new writing techniques as a result? You bet! So let's see how that goes. I'll tell up front that I played with POV and time in addition to everything else.
> 
> But dragons! And space!
> 
> This story is complete and I'll be posting it over the next week in nightly updates alongside some of my other stories.

Some people said the black holes were made of memories. Some people said they were the place where memories went to die. Some people said they were the place where forgotten memories lived. 

Carmilla refused to forget, clinging to the memories like the lifelines they were. 

They weren’t even hers. 

But still, she clung to them. 

At first everything was fine as the liquid cooled on her tongue. But then. Then the memories hit and the pain slammed through her like an uncontrollable scream, twisting her veins and shattering her bones until all she wanted was to claw her own skin off to get them out. 

Get the memories out. They hurt too much. She didn’t want them. Except she did. 

She was punched in face of a memory that felt like everything she was feeling. Pain and screaming and clawing of nails of skin. It was the memory of a girl in the dark with a thick blanket clutched tight around her shoulders. This memory came from a star that lived in her left shoulder and it almost burned with pain as she pressed her thumb to the tattooed star that was blazing across her collarbone.

It wasn’t her memory but Carmilla clung to it. Clung to the memory as it burned down her throat and into her skin. Clung to the memory as she stared at the girl before her with white eyes and a sun burning inside her; the girl who owned the memory but had forgotten it. 

The memory hurt.

The pain.

The same pain lived inside the memory, mixing together until all there was left was the pain. Memory or reality. She didn’t know any more. 

Memory or reality.

Laura. The first time these stars had burned, they were Laura’s. 

#

Pain ripped itself across Laura’s skin as the tattoo grew against her wishes, burning across her left shoulder like a hot coal was pressing itself against her skin. If she opened her eyes, Laura knew she’d see the black lines trying desperately to write themselves to life. So she kept her eyes closed. She didn’t want to see. She didn’t want to feel. Instead, she clutched the blanket closer and tried to pretend that the vague scent of leather and Carmilla that lingered in its folds wasn’t a comfort. 

The little hum that thrummed through the tiny room was enough to tell her that someone was flying the spaceship. Unbidden, her mind flashed an image of Carmilla swearing at the steering console. For a moment, it was almost comforting. 

Laura pushed the feeling away. 

Carmilla wasn’t allowed to be a comfort. She wasn’t Laura’s. Not anymore.

Thinking about Carmilla just lead to more pain. That was all she had left. The pain and the memories. Her hand shook even as she scrunched it tighter, the phantom feeling of a blaster in her palm. The heat as it fired. The buzz as the plasma exploded. The smell of charred flesh, a hole visible straight through Guardian Vordenberg’s chest. 

Hours earlier, the ragged edges of a dragon’s chest, dripping silver blood until its gemstone heart fell to the floor with a rattle. 

The gush of blood that poured from Danny’s throat, her Guardian uniform as pristine as the day she’d got it until the red blood made a slow trail down the black fabric. The blood. Hot and acid and filling the hallways with the smell of iron as the sword in Danny’s hand fell to the ground. The black blade swallowing all. 

And Carmilla. 

Laura burrowed herself away. Into the dark. Into the blanket. She ignored the way her skin screamed at her, pain and pain and pain. The memories were only made of pain.

And she didn’t want to feel them anymore. 

Laura would rip them from her skin if she had to.

#

The memory burned away, sinking into Carmilla’s skin and for a moment the star filled sky crossed her gaze and the ghost of Andromeda stared out at her. Just for a moment. Just long enough to remember why her throat burned. Just long enough to see the girl with Laura’s face but none of her memories twitch just a little. 

Why she was doing this? Why. Why. Why.

She clung to the question and the answer started to push at her, a memory drawn from her own skin instead of those taken from Laura. For Laura. To bring Laura back. 

This memory was Carmilla’s. 

#

Carmilla tried not to look at the empty co-pilot chair but it still lingered in her peripheral vision with every shake of the spaceship. Gritting her teeth, she ignored it and tightened her grip on the ship’s throttle. No time for feelings. Stars whizzed past her as they hurled towards the edge of the galaxy. A blue blast flew past the window and Carmilla pushed the throttle a little more, ignoring the way the ship was jumping underneath the strain. 

Something slammed into their side and the view blurred as Carmilla was thrown left. She slammed her shoulder into the cabin’s wall and a high pitched wail tore through the ship as a red safety light flicked on.

Growling at the pain, Carmilla inched the throttle a little farther and threw the steering console to the right. The ship spun, whipping her back but giving her a quick look at the ship behind them. Nearly triple the size of their own tiny wreck, The Inanna practically gleamed as the blue pulse cannon attached to its belly began to glow, looking for another shot.

“Laf!” Carmilla shouted, “Where are we on that hyperspeed?”

“Working on it!” Laf’s reply warbled from the open hatch to the lower decks.

Another light flicked on red, “I need it now,” Carmilla growled, “or we’re toast.” She whirled the ship around again as the blue light of the Spaceship Inanna turned white. Carmilla could almost see her mother gloating at her from the captain’s chair. She punched the engine just as the blast released, sending the blast skidding along their roof. Some tore overhead and the ship lurched. Carmilla swore, trying to wrestle it back under her control. 

She wasn’t even supposed to be flying this bucket of bolts. 

She was supposed to be making snarky comments and flicking switches. 

The co-pilot chair loomed in her vision once again. Carmilla refocused on the stars, eyes searching the skies but unable to find anything familiar in the night sky. 

The shrill alarm was still ringing. Carmilla punched straight into the wall and tore it out. The sound died as the speaker sparked on the floor. Super strength was one of the few perks left to a Dragon Rider with a dead dragon.

Super strength and immortality.

She looked at the sky again, ignoring the way the ship shook and quivered as she tried to outrun her mother. Hyperspeed wouldn’t be much help if she didn’t know where she was going. As Carmilla slammed the spaceship forward, the edges of her tattoo started itching like they hadn’t in decades. A constant reminder that she was already at the limit of her knowledge of space. 

Holding the throttle with a single hand, she ripped up the edges of her shirt to examine the creeping marks of the tattoo. Even after 300 years, the sight of her supposed soulmate tattoo had her grimacing. 

Every person was born with a map of the stars tattooed on their skin. A whirling configuration of stars, constellations, and navigational lines that laid the night sky bare for anyone who wished to uncovered its secrets. It started small. Each child was born with only their nearest star tattooed right over their heart in vibrant ink. A single point to mark their home. Their center. 

The maps grew from there. As the child left to explore space, hopping ships to nearby planets or taking vacations to farther destinations, the map filled in with every star system they went through until a delicate drawing of their journey was tattooed across their skin in dark black ink. 

Each tattooed star was full of the memories that they’d made while in the star’s orbit.

The map was supposed to help them always find their way home. The memories were to show them the journey it had taken to get there. 

The memories were to help their soulmate understand them. 

The stars were tattooed on their skin in black ink with one single exception. One star, and one star only, showed up in bright gold ink.

Their soulmate star. Full of magic and memories and promise. 

Although both soulmates would have different maps, different paths they’d taken to find each other, when they both found their soulmate star everything would change. Once both soulmates had found the same star, their star, the gold tattoos would connect, forming a bridge to bring them together and help them understand each other. 

Their memories would be shared. Their maps would explode in a blaze of colour, the black fading into red and blues and golds as each soulmate would have their map and their soulmate’s map written on their skin. All they’d have to do is press a star and they’d be able to see their soulmate’s memories. To help them understand the pasts that made them who they were. 

Two journeys. One map. Lines crisscrossing and intersecting and filling all the holes until their paths combined. 

Once, a child Carmilla had dreamed of the girl who would have the same soulmate star as her. Even as she wrestled the spaceship into flying, she could see her soulmate star poking from the edges of her shirt. Silas. 

Her home star was written in gold across her heart. 

Once, Carmilla had dreamed of a soulmate. 

Now, Carmilla knew better. The dream stolen. 

It wasn’t uncommon that people’s soulmate star and their home star were the same. Few people wandered far enough to see the universe. For most, the star maps were small. The place a person was born and few nearby locations that simply stretched across the top of their ribcage. 

There were always exceptions. 

At 300 years old, Carmilla had seen a lot of space. Her skin was drenched in stars; her map stretched all the way around her back and down her chest and arms, skimming the edges of hips. 

It was the tattoo over her right hip that itched. Hurt. As she flew, the navigational lines started to spread downward, the nearest stars drawing themselves on her skin in black lines and swirls. 

This was new territory. Stars she’d never seen before. 

Except. 

As Carmilla’s eyes swept the stars, jumping from her hip to the night sky, the lines of the universe began to form into familiar patterns. Her eyes went wide even as the ship quaked again, the metal rippling with the heat of her mother’s shot. 

She knew these stars. 

These were Laura’s stars. 

Her eyes landed on the empty copilot’s chair again. They rested for just a moment too long. 

An explosion pummelled through the back of the ship, sending them flipping around as the power flickered. Carmilla slammed into the console, the heat of the blast ripping through the air in a scream as an airlock somewhere was punctured. Gritting her teeth, she clung tighter to the throttle, pushing it even as the heavy pull of space tried to whip her back from her chair. 

Probably should have put on her seatbelt. 

But the chair next to her was empty and all Carmilla could do was shout, “I’m going to punch it.”

She didn’t wait for Laf’s reply. Even if Carmilla had never been in this corner of the galaxy, she’d traced the stars drawn on Laura’s skin a hundred times over. It didn’t matter if she hadn’t touched Laura in months.

Carmilla would never forget these stars. 

So she punched in the approximation of the right coordinates and slammed down the throttle as far as it would go. The ship quaked and shivered, rattling her teeth as the lights cut out altogether, but then the sky went blurry. Too fast for even her eyes. 

She just held onto the throttle and hoped she hadn’t just liquified the humans on board. 

The spaceship was already empty enough.

#

The memories whirled through her head, pulling her back under even as she fought to cling to reality. There was a reason she’d done this. A reason why everything hurt. A reason. Carmilla knew there was.

But before she could find it the pain hit again. Slamming into her, another memory was yanked to the surface. This one from a star pulling itself to life on her collarbone. The tattoo drawing itself over her skin in red ink. This was the star they’d met on. Laura had been just a rookie captain trying to find herself a crew for a ship that barely flew. 

She sunk into the memory, unable to stop it. 

#

Laura’s jaw dropped as the stranger simply walked into her cargo bay and started looking around like she owned the place. All swagger and leather pants despite the scorching sun and sand whipping across the spaceship port.

“Hey,” the stranger said, inspecting a side door of the cargo bay and poking her head in the large second storage room. Then she nodded.

Laura scurried over from where she’d been talking to Perry and Laf, “Who the frilly hell are you?”

“I’m Carmilla. I’m your new co-pilot, sweetheart.” Carmilla had somehow already gotten her hands on one of Laura’s blasters, inspecting the toggles.

Laura’s nostrils flared, “Excuse me? I haven’t hired a co-pilot.”

“I should hope not when you already have me,” Carmilla said. She smirked and Laura had to fight the urge to punch it off.

“I’m not hiring any co-pilot!” Laura said. Behind her, she could hear Danny and Kirsch look over from where they were stacking crates, “I’m leaving in ten. Get off my ship.”

Carmilla sighed, sticking the blaster in her belt and Laura felt her eye twitch, “Look, cupcake,” she said, “you don’t have a choice but to hire me. I saw your advertisement down at the cantina; kept an eye out. You hired the ginger mechanic with the robot arm that no-one else would touch after their last crew got themselves blown up.”

“That was not my fault,” Laf interjected.

Carmilla kept right on talking, “You took on Curly Sue as your interplanetary relations expert and the library walking around in a robot body as your communications tech. Both of whom have been stuck on this rock for months because no-one would take them.” She turned to Danny and rolled her eyes, “the Ginger Giant has her own reputation for missing more shots then she takes but she’s your primary gunner and the beefcake beside her can only be your muscle; the pair looks like they don’t have five brain cells between them.”

Kirsch frowned, confused, but Danny was already halfway the cargo bay with murder in her eyes. 

Laura beat her to it. She moved right into Carmilla’s space, “Don’t you dare insult my crew.” She snatched her blaster straight off Carmilla’s waist and held it between them, “I’d pick every one of them all over again.”

Carmilla didn’t back off. Her grin was cocky and Laura’s stomach boiled, “Can’t help it if facts sound like insults,” Carmilla said, “but regardless, they’re all the reason that you’re going to give me the job.”

“I highly doubt that.” Laura snorted, forcing herself to ignore the way Carmilla’s eyes stared down into her own and the heat coming off her at such close proximity. 

Carmilla’s next words sent her stomach to her shoes. “They don’t have ten minutes of flight experience between them. Not one of them has ever flown a ship.”

Laura blinked, head spinning. That couldn’t possibly be right. Danny had… or Laf? no.

Fudgebucket.

“I can fly this on my own,” Laura tried. 

Carmilla just grinned like she’d already won, “And what if something happens to you, cupcake? You get hurt? You’re doing a run and need someone to pick you from some backwater deal? You get into some real trouble and need a second set of hands in that big control room.” Carmilla winked as she’d whispered, “I promise, I’m great with my hands.”

Laura went red, “Even if I do have to hire a co-pilot, I don’t have to hire you.”

“But you just said that you’re about to leave. You don’t have time. Can’t be late for your first big job.” Carmilla said, too innocently, “And I may have spread a few rumours about just how horrible it was to be a co-pilot on your little ship so that no-one on this rock would touch you.”

Laura’s jaw dropped, her face red from anger, “You can’t do that!”

Carmilla just laughed, threw her bag over her shoulder and started walking to the bunks, “I’ll need that side cargo room for myself, personal reasons. No-one else allowed in.” Her grin was the most aggravating thing Laura had ever seen, “I’ll take it as payment for coming on-board last minute despite the inconvenience to myself.”

Laura genuinely wanted to punch her. 

#

She didn’t want to feel it. She didn’t want to feel any of it. Not again.

But she did. She did. She did. 

For her.

#

“Maybe next time let’s check in with your actual engineer before using hyper speed and nearly frying the whole ship,” Laf said even as they switched their robot arm from some kind of advanced looking hammer to their welding tool, “Not to mention, I’d like an appreciation of my genius for figuring out how to close that airlock remotely.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, flexing her fingers as she lounged against the wall in the engine room. There was no point trying to fly a ship with no power, she was content to let them drift around whatever planet this was until they’d found something to use against her mother, “Well, I’m sorry for saving our lives.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Laf said, “Let’s pretend that it’s all about your sub-par flying skills and that our lives don’t actually depend on me having figured out whatever kind of crazy is we’re dealing with in this ship.”

“You’re the one who talked Laura into buying it,” Carmilla reminded them.

Laf hummed, sparks flying as they ducked behind the engine, “Because it’s a great ship. Do you know how rare it is to find a ship with a sentient interface? Rare. How can you not take advantage of that when you’ve got the world’s best cyborg engineer on your team and an andr-”

Their voice cut out as their eyes flickered upwards as though they could see their lab through the ceilings of the engine room. The light of the sparks played off their face, casting them in deep shadow. A somehow tiny figure caught alone in the shadows. 

Their voice was stiff as they caught themselves, “Have you checked on her?”

Carmilla said nothing.

They both knew she had checked multiple times. 

Grabbing a welding mask they didn’t need, Laf covered their face from the sparks, “She’s a little shaken up; I poked my head in after saving us all.” The welding started again, “Got any ideas for what we do now?”

“I have no idea,” there was 300 years of weight to Carmilla’s words. 

Laf snorted, “I suppose prophecies aren’t much good if you can’t complete them.” They shook their head, “Four to stop infinity. Four to free the night. and so on and so forth. We may know how to stop your mother but it’s going to take significantly more research to figure out how to make all those ingredients work.”

They pointedly eyed the glimmering gemstone hanging from Carmilla’s neck. 

Carmilla took that as her cue to leave, slipping from the shadows that bounced in the room and up the stairs into the hallway. Her steps echoed down the small metal corridor, reverberating back to her ears again and again. Nowhere else for the sound to escape to. 

Doors line the hallway and every single one was closed. In fact, Carmilla was fairly certain that none of the bunks were getting any use. Laf slept in their lab; the empty husk of JP’s android body on their table as they poured over papers and books. Carmilla kept walking, eyes on the door at the end of the hallway but the red dog she’d spraypainted over Danny’s door haunted the corners of her vision. The ding mark on the top of Kirsch’s doorframe just reminded her of how many times he’d run into it when he wasn’t paying attention. The dust gathering on Perry’s door twisted her gut. 

That should have been their first clue.

Carefully, Carmilla stepped over the red stain on the steel floor that she couldn’t figure out how to remove and tried not to look at the doors. One day ago, faces had peered out of every doorway as Carmilla had been forced to kneel in the same hallway that she now walked. 

Now, there was nothing behind each door but silence and the remains of lives stopped mid sentence. A half eaten sandwich in Kirsch’s room. A hockey stick waiting for Danny’s hand. There was even a rag hanging on Perry’s doorknob that swayed slightly in the breeze of Carmilla’s walk.

Laf refused to move it. 

There was no life behind those doors; the only thing to ever greet her was the sound of her own footsteps. 

Carmilla wasn’t even using her own bunk, preferring to curl up in the lower deck holding area that had once held her dragon. Carmilla’s hands went to her necklace, fingers playing with the small red jewel hanging off the improvised chain. Andromeda’s heart.

Even more than the others, Carmilla’s bunk had been empty the longest. Hardly used and her personal belongings had moved elsewhere long before she’d moved into the old dragon bay. She felt the distance in every step. Her feet constantly tried to take her back to the Captain’s bunk. 

But that was just as empty as the rest. 

Carmilla flexed her hands and kept walking through the door at the end of the hallway and up into a small storage space at the back of the ship that Carmilla had once joked was really only good for smugglers and kissing girls. 

It was the only room that didn’t still feel empty.

She only stopped to grab a small lightbulb, the lampshade nowhere to be found.

“Hey cupcake,” her voice was soft, filling the small, dark space even as the scent of honey and chocolate settled something in her bones. In her skin. In the map still scrawling its edges across her hip. 

She plugged the light in.

Carmilla’s chest ached more than the tattoo ever could. Laura’s eyes flicked to her and then away, focusing on the dim lightbulb that shone light across the shadows. Flexing her hands again, Carmilla plunked down beside Laura and pressed her palms into her knees so they wouldn’t feel quite so empty.

So they wouldn’t reach out and grab what wasn’t theirs. 

With only the lightbulb, Laura’s face was nothing more than shadow.

Carmilla leaned back, staring at the ceiling with a forced nonchalance, “We finally outran Mother. Laf got the hyperdrive up and working but no matter what that ginger tells you about their technical prowess, you should know that it was my flying that got us out there.” She pasted a smile on her face and elbowed Laura gently, “And to think you said my flying was atrocious.”

She wasn’t even hoping for a smile; Carmilla would have settled for the smallest twitch of Laura’s lips. All she got was a blank stare; eyes that had once shone with life looked like there was no soul inside them. 

Carmilla fought back the clog in her throat.

She should have been angry, the light weight of the red gem around her neck reminding her of the fact with every movement. 

But she couldn’t find anger in her chest. Not for Laura. Never for Laura. 

So all Carmilla did was count speckles on the ceiling, swallowing her wry smile and forcing herself not to breach the inch of space between them that somehow felt like a cavern. Her empty words filled the distance between them.

#

She wanted them gone. Wanted them gone.

Or did she?

With the memories leaking through her head and her skin, she wasn’t sure what she wanted. 

#

Laura wanted to strangle Carmilla. 

“If someone was supposed to come and answer that distress beacon, I can see why they didn’t bother coming back for those folks.” Carmilla lounged across her co-pilot chair with her feet hanging over the edge as she flicked the booster switches idly. 

Laura tightened her hands on the steering console of the ship and focused on the sky in front of her. Strangling Carmilla wouldn’t bring back the coordinates of the distress call. 

“Those are real actual people who are in the middle of having something terrible happen to them,” Laura tried not to jerk the finicky flying mechanism too hard, “and all you can do is make crappy jokes! They’re going to get eaten by a black hole if we don’t get them out of there! Are you really so damaged that you’re incapable of caring about anything?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, trademark leather jacket tight around her shoulders, “And you really think you’re doing anything to help them? To help the poor stranded people?”

“At least I’m willing to try and do something.” To make her point, Laura pulled the steering column left in the approximate direction the call had come from. For a moment, the ship swung in the proper direction. Then, with a groan, it pulled back.

Carmilla had her hands on the other steering column, pulling it to the right. Her eyes were set, “I’m not going to let you kill me with your justice crusade, cupcake.”

“My ship,” Laura said, “I choose the course.”

Carmilla refused to let go. “Oh yes. Because I’m sure that if you stay pure of heart and try your very best, then that’ll keep us from getting pulled into the universe ripping hole that’s ready to swallow those people up.”

“Well, it’s better than lounging around all day and pretending to be all cool and disaffected when really you had to force your way onto a ship because you’re miserable and alone.” Laura said.

If she’d thought Carmilla was pulling before, the steering console suddenly went flying right as Carmilla yanked. It was as though Laura’s strength was nothing to Carmilla. The ship tilted and spun in a full 180. Flinging them in circles to nowhere. 

Carmilla turned to her, eyes hard and shoulders tight, “Do you really think going in there with this bucket of bolts will do a lick of actual good? We’ve been chasing these fast-forming black holes all over the universe and you don’t know anything more than you did the day before your friend got swallowed up by one.” Carmilla hands were off the console, standing to step into Laura’s space. Laura met her in the middle, leaping to her feet as they faced off between the two co-pilot chairs. 

The ship continued to spin, throwing the stars into a blur through the windshield.

“You’re a child,” Carmilla continued, “And you understand nothing. Not about life. Not about this place and certainly not about what it takes to survive in a world that....” She backed off. Falling back into her seat as though Laura wasn’t even worth her time. That somehow stung.

Carmilla wasn’t quite done yet, “You know what. The sooner you finish playing Captain Reynolds, the better off we’ll be.”

Laura stood for a moment. Then she slowly turned and sat back in her chairs, hands back on the console to bring the ship back under control. The spinning slowed as her hands moved automatically. 

“No.” She said at last, “No. I’m not just going to give up. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am a child. Just some kid who had never left her galaxy before she grabbed her own ship. Who thought that this was going to be some big adventure to fill in her star map and maybe find a soulmate. Well, it turns out the world isn’t working out exactly like I thought it would. This ship is rickety. The universe is full of numbskulls who don’t know their left from right booster and black holes just appear and nobody seems to care.”

She coaxed the ship to spin slower, “Maybe that’s just the way it is,” Laura continued, keeping her eyes on the sky, “But that doesn’t mean I have to accept it. I deserve better. Those people deserve better.”

The ship finally stilled and she looked at Carmilla, “Hell. Even you deserve better.”

Carmilla straightened slightly in her chair and, rather than listen to another speech, Laura stomped from the console room. 

#

The memory burned itself into the divot above her collarbone.

#

Carmilla was supposed to be sleeping. She tossed and turned, trying to find any kind of comfort in the room. The high ceilings of the dragon bay seemed to echo with nothing at all, every movement magnified a hundred times over without a massive dragon to absorb their sound. 

Carmilla rolled over, the metal ground was cold beneath her shoulder and she let her fingers clasp the red jewel around her neck. The smooth edges of the dragon’s heart seemed infinitely sharper than the hard floor. 

The floor had always been hard. Growling, Carmilla popped to her feet and dragged a hand through her hair before exiting the room.

Andromeda had been soft; a single stroke across her dark scales had been smoother than the finest silk. She had been soft and warm and one of the few things left that was older than Carmilla was. The dragon had been the only piece left of the planet that Carmilla had once called home and the only one who could remember that home now that the planet existed as nothing more than a gold tattoo above Carmilla’s heart. 

Now all that remained of her planet was a black hole.

Now all that remained of her dragon was the crystallized core of her heart. 

There had once been a whole planet of dragon riders. Silas. A planet of longevity beyond expectation where magic poured freely from the riders. A planet of immortal riders and endless dragons. Her mother’s dragon had been red and Carmilla had spent nights curled up against its stomach before she’d been old enough to get her own. Her father’s dragon had been blue, the largest in their village with blue fire that poured from his mouth but he had still waited patiently while tiny Carmilla had clumsily climbed up his wings. 

When her new mother had stolen Carmilla away on her quest to collect all the immortals she could, she’d saved the last of the dragon riders and the last of the dragons. 

The irony made Carmilla slam the doors a little louder as she stomped back through the ship’s hallways. 

Days after her disappearance, the star that had once served as Silas’s sun had blasted inward in an implosion that decimated all life on the planet. All that had remained was a black hole. When Carmilla had heard the news, all that had been left of her family, of her planet, were ashes floating through space. A planet no longer. Just dust held together by the loosest remaining gravity.

She’d wanted to care. 

She hadn’t known how to care. 

Her new mother had stolen her memories, pulled them from her tattoos like liquid silk so that Carmilla could feel them no longer. Her false mother had left only grey ink in her veins and stolen Carmilla’s emotional attachment to anything in her past. The best way to make a loyal follower.

They’d come back slowly. 300 years later and they were still fuzzy, stories pulled from books and legends and her dragon’s own memories. None of them acutally hers. Carmilla reached for the flask on her hip and took a swig as she stomped through the ship. With most of her ink stolen, the ony way to keep her tattoos black and her few fuzzy memories alive was to drink synthetic memories. The liquid was a gross black colour tinged with the barest hint of emotion. 

It was enough to let her create and hold her new memories. 

500mL a day. Rain or shine. 

She grabbed a chocolate bar from the kitchen’s stack and tried not to crush it in her fist. Instead, she used her other hand to swipe the bottle off her hip and take another swig of the flask.

Carmilla had known enough about astronomy to know that the black hole around Silas should never have formed that quickly. Mere days. It had taken a couple hundred years to figure out what had actually happened. 

Her mother had happened. 

Revenge was one hell of a motivator.

It had taken 300 years to find the truth about her mother and what she had done to Carmilla’s planet. How the Dean was tearing open space and time to try and get at the magic living in the universe’s core and using her immortal ‘children’ to try and traverse the endless time that lived inside the black holes. Only the Guardians stood in her way. Incompetant humans who tried to protect each black hole from any who would try to enter it. 

It had only taken Carmilla two weeks after she’d learned the truth to get herself on the first ship out of the galaxy. It had been coincidence that it was Laura’s ship. Carmilla’s first priority had been finding a ship with a storage space big enough to stash a dragon. Andromeda could easily fly through space but even the dragon didn’t have the strength to make it to the outer rim. 

Laura’s second hand ship was one of the few models left with room to store a dragon.

Hide a dragon. 

She slammed the small door to Laura’s hideaway open, words pouring out before she could even think about them, “I wasn’t even supposed to stay.”

Laura started and it was the most reaction she’d given since Vordenberg’s death. Her hair was askew and her eyes were heavy with sleep as she stared up at Carmilla, still wrapped in her blanket tomb. 

Carmilla didn’t care, “I was supposed to get on this ship and ride it to the outer rim and then I was just going to go. Fly as far and as fast as we could until Andromeda and I found whatever exists beyond the edges.” Carmilla chuckle was anything but funny, “They say humans can’t go there. I figured the last rider and her dragon could try their luck.”

Laura didn’t say anything. She never said anything anymore. She just sat and stared like if she didn’t move it would somehow freeze time to a place where Danny and Andromeda and even Vordenberg weren’t dead. 

Carmilla knew better; she knew what it meant to be frozen in time and there was no solace to be found in un-aging skin. “But I stayed. I stayed because you asked me to and because you thought that we could save the world from being swallowed up by a black hole and the magic that my mother wanted inside it. I was the sentimental idiot who believed you. Until I wasn’t.”

Until she wasn’t. 

“I left.” Carmilla could feel the desperation in her voice like those two words were full of unchecked possibility, “I left like I was always supposed to. I was never supposed to save the universe. That was always your job. You’re the one who wanted to be a hero, Laura. I couldn’t be that. So I left and you stayed,” Carmilla smashed one hand against the ground even as the chocolate bar teetered in the soft grip of the other, “and yet you pulled me back. It was too late.”

Her voice was harsh, “I couldn’t really leave because you were already inside me. Under my skin or in my chest or who knows where else. You’re written in my veins.” Her hands shook and Carmilla pulled them to her chest, “I couldn’t figure out how to claw you off and rip you out.”

Softer, she added, “I still can’t figure it out.”

The fight deflated from her chest with those simple words, like a truth waiting to be acknowledged. As much as she wanted to claw Laura from under her skin, pull her out with claws and fangs, she didn’t know how. 

So Carmilla sighed and held out the chocolate bar, “Here. You have to eat something.”

It hovered in the air between them. That space where the edges of their breath just managed to mingle with nowhere else to go in the small space. Laura eyes jumped between her and the bar and back again. She didn’t move, forcing Carmilla’s hand to hang awkwardly between them. 

“Just take it,” Carmilla growled, “I’m not about to just let you die.”

If anything, Laura shrank farther back into herself.

Carmilla threw her hand in the air but still left it in the space between them, “Do you want something else? We’re stocked up. We’ve got chocolate bars and cookies and cookies with little pieces of chocolate in them and some chocolatey fudge combination and-”

“Stop.”

Carmilla froze, “She speaks. I was beginning to worry you’d forgotten how.”

“Don’t,” Laura shook her head, still refusing to look at Carmilla, “Just don’t.”

“Oh, come on. Do you think whatever deep dark thoughts are going on in that head of yours are enough to scare me off?” Carmilla said.

Laura’s voice was broken. “They should.” 

The chocolate bar still hung between them, “I’m not exactly made of light and sunshine mysel-”

“No. You don’t understand,” Laura cut her off, voice hoarse, “You should hate me. You shouldn’t even be here. You’re right. You’re always right. You left and I forced you to come back and everything went wrong. Andromeda died because of me and it should be the easiest thing in the world for you to hate me.” Her voice choked on tears, “You shouldn’t be here offering me chocolate.”

Slowly, Carmilla retracted the bar. She turned it over in her hands, staring down at the way the wrapper caught the light. She wanted to take Laura’s hand, pull her in and hold her safe, but everything in Laura’s posture told her not to.

So Carmilla waited. Waited in the reverberating shell of the spaceship. 

Laura kept talking between her sniffles; her face nothing but broken. “You should be running. Enjoying as much of your life as you can until your mother kills us all with primeval magic. I already took away everything else. You should just go. Live. Be safe.” 

There was magic at the center of the holes. All powerful. All consuming. Everything Carmilla’s mother wanted. All she had to do was figure out how to get to it.

“Maybe I don’t want to be safe.” Carmilla said.

Laura’s laugh was made of tears, her hands flailing slightly in the empty air, “Your mother is going to end the world in exchange for ultimate power and I helped her do it. I killed Vordenberg. I just killed him. I didn’t think about the consequences or how it would leave the black hole’s gates unguarded. I just killed him. I- I-” She stuttered then the words flew out, “I saw that that he was going to kill you and I just killed him instead. I blasted straight through him and I didn’t even care. I just wanted to save you.”

For a moment Laura leaned towards her, almost folding in half as she buckled. She pulled away at the last second, shaking her head and refusing to meet Carmilla’s gaze. 

It hurt. 

Hurt like it was her own heart that had been ripped out of her chest instead of Andromeda’s. 

There wasn’t much of a difference really.

So with Laura refusing to look at her, Carmilla spoke again, “It would be easy,” she said, “To just stay safe. To run and hide and dig yourself away into a hole where no-one could find you. Where choices were easy and we never had to feel anything.”

Laura’s hand went to her own shoulder, her nails biting into her skin, and Carmilla’s fingers twitched to grab her fingers. She had to wonder what memories were writing their way over Laura’s skin.

“But life doesn’t work that way,” Carmilla traced the lines of her own soulmate star map instead, “the universe gives us a map but doesn’t tell us how to use it. Barely even tells us where we’re going. I left. You made a mess. Everything hurts. We keep going.”

“I can’t figure my map out. It’s changed. Something’s wrong.”

Her eyes went wide when Laura started crying again, big hiccuping sobs that Carmilla’s hands just couldn’t ignore. She touched Laura shoulder only to have her flinch away. So Carmilla stuffed her hands in her lap, helpless to do anything but watch. Feeling the world around her shatter and fall apart just a little bit more.

Laura’s motion moved her shirt collar just enough that Carmilla could see the edge of her soulmate tattoo. A tattoo where her touch had once been welcome. Fingertips made of soft caresses. A tattoo where her touch had once been begged for. Kisses pressed to every star. 

Then Laura shifted and it was gone before Carmilla could wonder about the red outline on the black. Instead her gaze was drawn to Laura’s red face, blotchy and wet with tears. Her every instinct screamed at her to brush Laura’s hair to the side, tuck it behind her ear, and wipe the tears from her face. 

Instead, Carmilla practically smushed the chocolate bar as Laura did it herself, shoving her own hair behind her ear and missing an entire chunk. 

If the ship hadn’t been so silent, she would have missed Laura’s whisper, “Can you even feel them anymore? The memories?”

Carmilla froze. 

The memories. Even though the star map would still draw itself across her skin with every new galaxy, her mother had stolen the memories when she’d stolen Carmilla. She’d used magic to bottle them up inside a jar and stash them away; to give her a perfect daughter.

The memories still existed like phantoms inside her skin but the magic was gone. She couldn’t press one of her stars and have the memories burst to life inside her head as vividly as the day they were made. The numbness sat in her chest like a weight. 

An anchor. 

An emptiness that lingered from the moment she awoke.

Now she survived on the hazy memories stolen from others. Then on synthetic memories as they’d become available. Andromeda had shown her how; her dragon keeping her from sinking into the emptiness with synthetic memories to balance her head and coping techniques taught in the moments stolen from their mother’s eyes.

Her own memories nothing but wisps in her head. She could see them but the feelings were gone. Even the new memories felt tinged with emptiness. 

After 300 years, her mind was having trouble hanging on to them. Her mother’s face was more of a blur than anything else. 

She wondered when the heat of Andromeda’s fire would fade from her mind. When the feeling of whirling on dragon-back between the stars would fade. 

When she’d eventually forget Laura. 

Forget the girl that made her dream of the child who wanted a soulmate. It was a question she never let herself entertain. Silas was gone. Blown up. A black hole where no star lived. 

There was nothing to be drawn on a soulmates skin, no golden star left to be formed. 

Without a matching golden star, two maps could never write themselves on her skin. Memories never shared. Understood.  
No-one would ever wear her star. 

Carmilla jerked to her feet, “You don’t get to ask me that,” she said. “Never that. You’re still here Hollis. Decide what you’re going to do about it. The Ginger Mechanic and I have a prophecy to solve and ingredients to gather if we’re going to stop the end of the world.” 

She stomped from the room, one hand wrapped around Andromeda’s heart while the other dropped a chocolate bar in Laura’s lap.

#

Carmilla smashed to her knees, something spongey compacting under her weight as her legs gave out. The pain didn’t even register. She was too preoccupied with the memories contained in the next star. It swiveled and burned on her skin and the girl who wore Laura’s face watched her.

Watched her with a small star glowing in the palm of her hand.

Carmilla’s fists clenched as the next memory washed over her. It was Laura’s. 

Their first date whirled through her head as a tentative smile whisked over Laura’s face only to disappear when she remembered that this wasn’t an actual date. This was a stake-out. A moment to get information. 

A moment to get Carmilla away from the vicious dragon they’d found hiding in her ship’s hold. 

The crew was taking care of the dragon. Laura got the Carmilla. She wasn’t sure which one was more dangerous. 

The busy port whirled around her and Laura absently noted the spaceships docking and taking off through the restaurant’s window. She’d meant to take Carmilla to the usual marketplace pub, full of other travellers and thick smelling beer. It was Carmilla who had sent her a message telling her to meet at the restaurant instead. Apparently Carmilla wasn’t fond of the ‘lackwhits in the pub’. 

She’d been surprised when she’d arrived and found Carmilla had booked them a private booth. She’d double checked that her blaster was still strapped to her hip.

Nobody had to know that it only fired non-lethal shots. 

Her smile came to life when she saw Carmilla waiting for her, reclined against the back of the booth with a champagne glass in hand as she stared out the window. Laura’s breath caught as Carmilla turned and spotted her at the door, a seductive grin smoothing across Carmilla’s face. 

Not to mention the tight corset. With all that skin on display, Laura got her first good look at Carmilla’s starmap tattoo. It crisscrossed her skin like it was always meant to be there, following the intricate lines of her bones to trace artful patterns across her shoulders before dipping beneath the fabric in a way that made Laura’s fingers tingle. The lines were delicate. Sweeping. Every star map had it’s own style and Carmilla’s looked as though it had been hand-drawn with an ink pen. 

She was surprised to see it was the star over Carmilla’s heart drawn in gold. The place she’d meet her soulmate was her home planet. 

The question as to why Carmilla was bothering to fly the galaxies when she could have stayed home was crushed by Laura’s desire to follow every line from star to star until she’d mapped the smooth skin and burned Carmilla into her fingertips. 

Laura’s throat was dry.

Wow. 

Carmilla stood and offered her glass, “Well, don’t you look like a virgin sacrifice.” There was bravado in her words but something like hope glimmered in her eyes. 

Laura’s chest twinged in pain as she reminded herself that it wasn’t a real date. 

She told herself she didn’t want it to be. 

Years later, the memories still burned as they wove into an image of Carmilla tied up; anger in her eyes as Laura hauled her back to the ship. 

More painful considering where it had lead them. 

#

It had been a week when Laura finally appeared in the kitchens and Carmilla had to fight to keep her face impassive. She took another sip of her flask, ignoring the shadow of Captain Hollis that fell over the doorway. Laura said nothing so Carmilla said nothing in return. 

She twirled the flask slowly, watching as the dark substance swirled within it. The slightest glow as she shook the memories in a glass. This batch tasted like missed moments and second chances. 

Better than the batches that tasted like hope. 

“How do you do it?”

Carmilla glanced up to find Laura’s eyes fixed on the flask. Her gaze jumped to Carmilla’s as she took a step closer, “How did your mother take your memories out?”

“Painfully. With a lot of magic.” Carmilla stoppered the flask and put it on her hip, “Why?”

Laura ignored her question, “And when you don’t have the synthetic ones. When you had to take the memories from people to survive. You could do it too?”

It was something Carmilla had done decades ago, stealing a Tuesday here or a Wednesday there from whomever she could find in the night. Desperate to feel something. Desperate to not lose the memories she’d made since her oldest ones had been stolen. She’d taken just enough ink to feel something and keep her remaining memories alive. 

Carmilla frowned, not liking this train of thought, “Close enough. Why?”

Despite the bright lights of the kitchen, Laura’s face bore a hundred different shadows, “Could you take them from anyone?”

“Laura.” 

Laura hesitated. Her hands twisted then came up to lightly brush one of the stars that poked from her loose t-shirt arm; a far cry from the complete sleeves that coated Carmilla’s arms. Laura stared at it then her words came softly, “I think she stole them.”

Carmilla stopped breathing, “What?”

“Perry,” Laura shook her head, “Your mother. I think she did something to some of my memories; they’re changing colour.”

Carmilla was around the table and in front of Laura before she could even consider being impassive, “Show me.”

At first the tattoo looked mostly normal, the black lines of the star map bright against Laura’s skin as she pulled the collar of her shirt aside. The jagged red lines underneath them weren’t ideal but Carmilla could imagine why Laura was fighting that tattoo’s growth. Their last few weeks hadn’t been pleasant. 

It was the fifth star where Carmilla’s breath rushed out, creating goosebumps on Laura’s skin. Even they couldn’t obscure the truth. 

The star was grey.

The ink was washed out and no longer the vibrant black it was supposed to be. It wasn’t the terrifying white ink that Carmilla had woken up to find written on her own skin after her mother had stolen it away but it wasn’t right either. And it wasn’t just one star. Even in the small space Laura was showing her, nearly half the stars were greyed out.

“Oh, Laura.” The words slipped out.

Laura shrugged the shirt back in place. Eyes down as she said, “Perry was hanging around a lot and I thought there was something going on with them. I’m not sure how she did it but I could feel something. I just. Everything went wrong and you left and your mother was going to end the world and it didn’t seem like a priority.”

Visions of apples brought directly to Laura by friendly hands danced through Carmilla’s head.

Carmilla stepped back, mind whirling, “Has it stopped or are they still disappearing?”

“No,” Laura’s face went dark, “she left me with these ones. The worst ones. The ones that keep me up at night because all I can see is everyone-” She paused, clearly gearing up to say something and Carmilla caught her train of thought just as Laura spoke,

“Would you take them aw-” 

“No.” Carmilla cut her off. 

Even without looking, she could feel Laura frowning at her, “You didn’t even let me-”

“I’m not taking your memories.” Carmilla’s words hung in the room and she looked over just in time to see Laura flush; her hands clenched at her sides. “End of story.”

Laura’s jaw twitched, “I’d be more helpful without them. I can’t close my eyes without seeing everything bad that happened.” She drew herself up and stepped after Carmilla, “She took the good ones, Carm. Only the good ones and left me with every sad memory I have so that all I can see when I look inside is the sadness. All the happy memories are empty and I don’t even know how to begin to find them. It’s just sad. That’s all she left me.”

Laura’s face was desperate, pleading, only a fraction of the spark that had once winked in her eyes. Like a flame killed until all that was left was a final desperate ember, “You and Laf need all the help you can get and I can’t help you if I keep letting all these feelings get in the way. I killed Vordenberg and now the black holes and their magic are unguarded. I can barely find the strength to move; how am I supposed to help you with the prophecy unless you take them away?”

Carmilla looked away, breath tight, but that didn’t stop Laura. She recited the prophecy that she’d gotten out of Carmilla during her kidnappings, 

“Four to stop infinity. Four to free the night.  
The Word where fate is written down, the Heart of ancient’s fright.  
The Sword that cleaves no flesh or blood but still can take its bite,  
And when the stars come home again, the Love that’s writ in light.” 

Carmilla closed her eyes, “I told you, cupcake. I gave up on that prophecy a long time ago.”

“But then you came back.” Laura’s words washed over her.

“Then I came back.” Carmilla repeated. 

“So take them out,” Laura said, “Take the memories away and I can fix everything. I wouldn’t feel this pain and sadness every five seconds.” Laura’s voice quavered, “I don’t want them anymore, Carm. They’re tearing a hole in me. They’re full of mistakes and death and blood. Danny’s dead and Vordenberg’s dead and Andromeda’s dead and JP’s captured and Perry’s got a chip in her brain. It’s all my fault. I look at the memories and all I feel is pain. I just see them all. I see you.”

Carmilla’s gaze snapped to hers and Laura seemed frozen.

“I see you.” Laura repeated, “And it hurts. I can’t feel anything else. Please.” Tears had formed in Laura’s eyes, “Please make it go away, Carm.”

Carmilla ran her hand through her hair. Slowly, she walked back to Laura and extended her hand. Laura held her gaze. No flinches. So Carmilla gently rested her hand on the side of Laura’s neck, thumb stroking just below her jawline. Laura tilted slightly to the side, giving her more room. 

Laura had heard her describe the process before. A quick nip was all it would take; implants in her teeth to make the process easier. Less obtrusive but still quick. Her mother had always favoured slower methods but if Carmilla was going to take, she preferred to be a little more intimate about it. 

Laura trembled under her hand. Soft skin centimeters from her lips.

Carmilla leaned in. Her hand slipped down. Instead of biting, her hand slipped down to slide Laura’s shirt back and expose the tattoo trying to write itself across her collarbone. Her eye twitched as she swallowed an inhale. 

The black ink was there but the skin underneath was angry and red. Black and grey stars mingling together. Carmilla ran her thumb down them as though she could sooth the pain. The skin was hot and inflamed under her touch. 

She fought back the urge to lay a gentle kiss on Laura’s shoulder. 

She forced the words through a hoarse throat, “I’d have to drain you dry, Laura. Pull every memory from your skin until the tattoo is white. The memories would stay in your head but they wouldn’t mean the same. They wouldn’t feel like anything.” 

She gently stroked the angry skin again, “I’d have to take it all. Whatever remains of the good with the bad. Every feeling would just sink into nothingness. Numbness. Nothing would matter because all that would be left in your bones was apathy. You’d ache all through the night just to feel anything again but have no idea how to find it. Do the things you used to love and find no pleasure in them. Chug bottles of other people’s memories for just a whisper of a feeling and it would take decade to find even that again.”

Carmilla was a dragon rider. She was nearly immortal. She had the time to find fragments of feeling again. 

Laura was human. 

“Please Carm.” Laura’s words were a whisper. Desperate. Tear filled. 

Carmilla fingers danced over the tattoo, the motion almost hypnotic, “Nothing would matter anymore. You certainly wouldn’t care about saving the world.”

She wouldn’t do it. As much as Carmilla ached to see Laura in pain, she knew with every fiber of her being that she’d never do it. 

Carmilla was too selfish. 

The emptiness sat in her chest even as Laura begged her for the same. As Laura begged Carmilla to empty her.

“You’d remember your mother’s face but the feeling of love in her eyes would disappear.” Carmilla held Laura’s gaze, thumb stroking her inflamed skin, “You’d have a picture in your head of the way your father’s arms held you but the warmth would be gone. You’d remember that you cared about Danny but you wouldn’t exactly be able to remember why.” Her words dropped to a whisper, “You’d see my face and it would mean nothing.”

Good. Bad. Hurt. Joy. Nothing.

Carmilla was too selfish to take Laura’s memories. 

Shaking her head, she stepped back. Laura caught her hand, refusing to let her go far, “So why do you feel then?” Laura’s voice was desperate, “You said that all the feelings would go with the memories but you said you feel something for me. Why me?”

The words were easy and heavy all at the same time, “Because you’re mine.”

Laura’s eyes were wet but they bounced down to Carmilla’s heart. To the place where the golden soulmate star was. 

Laura didn’t have a soulmate star. Had never been to the planet where everything would come together.

She’d never been to Carmilla’s planet either. No-one would. 

It was a black hole. A planet where no-one could ever go again. 

Carmilla twisted her hand, looking down at the way their fingers locked together, “You’re mine when I annoy you and feel amusement in my chest. You’re mine when you just breathe and I want to tell you that I love you. You’re mine when you’re doing something incredibly stupid and I have to barge in and save you because the fear is pounding in my veins.” 

“Carm,” Laura was crying, “You can’t just.” She cut herself off.

“I know.” Carmilla said, “I know. But all I really know is that in more than 3 centuries you’re the only person who ever made me feel anything. You and no-one else.”

“It hurts,” Laura choked the words out, “It all just hurts. You and me and everything. It hurts.”

Slowly, Carmilla dropped Laura’s hand, “Your memories aren’t gone, Laura. Not like mine. Whatever my mother had Curly Sue do, she couldn’t steal them. The memories are still in there; they’re just locked under your skin and you have to figure out how to break the lock open.” Grey tattoos instead of white.

Carmilla turned to the kitchen, hitting the button on the hot chocolate dispenser. “It won’t be easy,” Carmilla kept her hands busy instead of looking at Laura, “and I’ll help you if I can. You start with this.” She pulled her flask of memories from her hip and set it on the counter, “Bodies and tattoos aren’t meant to function without the memories. They hurt; it’s like missing white blood cells or a hormone imbalance. So we supplement with the synthetic version. That’ll get you started.”

The hot chocolate machine beeped and Carmilla stirred the liquid, pouring a few shots of her memories into the mix like milk. Then she added two marshmallows. 

When she turned back around, hot chocolate in hand, Laura was staring at her with wide eyes, “I’m already empty, Laura. This ship is empty. The black holes are empty. And you,” Carmilla shook her head and pressed the mug into Laura’s hands, “you’ve always been full. You can’t empty yourself just because they died. Fight this.”

Please. 

Her fingers itched to touch but all she could do was watch. The kitchen beeped and, moments later, Carmilla watched as Laura took a sip of the mixture. Her missing memories sitting heavy on her own tongue.

#

As the next memory faded in, it took her longer than it should have to place it. The pain was different. Numbness. Emptiness. Broken and barren and apathetic to the point where it felt like the pain had burned everything else way. Where emptiness lived in her chest and nothing else existed. 

Laura. These were Laura’s memories and Laura felt empty.

#

Laura was in the cockpit and staring out the window, her hands on the steering column without taking them anywhere. She could hear the rest of the crew hovering outside the door. Whispers and quiet movements as they waited for her to take off. 

She couldn’t do it.

Laura just sat, letting the emptiness wash over her as she turned to stare at the empty co-pilot chair next to her. 

They’d gone after Carmilla’s mother against Carmilla’s wishes. After Carmilla had traded Kirsch away to save Laura’s life, Laura had dropped Carmilla at the nearest station and left. They’d pushed the small ship to chase after the Dean as she tried to open another black hole in the universe. 

They’d tried to be heroes.

It had all gone wrong. They’d been split up. Laura alone on a ship with the Dean and locked in an empty ejection tube designed to spit her into space. Into the freshly made black hole. 

Until Carmilla. 

Carmilla had come back. With nothing but an oxygen mask over her mouth and an onyx black sword in her hand as Andromeda cut through the starry sky. The dragon was as fearsome as the night, all black scales and starlight fire that lit Carmilla up. 

If that was the last image Laura saw, it would have been enough.

The Dean blasted Laura into space and Carmilla caught her, racing against the pull of the black hole to haul her back even as the gravity yanked on them both, trying to rip them from reality. Laura’s lungs fought for air in the void of space. A mask slipped gently over her face and the hiss of oxygen had her gasping with relief, clinging tighter to Carmilla’s warmth.

She was pinned against Andromeda's back as Carmilla leaned down over her. The oxygen mask on Carmilla’s face was gone as Laura’s gasps down buzzing oxygen.

All she could see was Carmilla. 

A Carmilla who might have been a magical dragon rider but still wouldn’t last more than a few minutes without air. Less if separated from Andromeda. Laura reached up, touching the side of Carmilla’s face. Skin soft.

Eyes full of stars.

For just a moment, they stared at each. “You know,” Carmilla said, “I’m really starting to hate this hero crap.”

Then she was gone, sword in hand, and leaping into the void of space. The fabric of her jacket was ripped from Laura’s fingers as the heat of her vanished into only cold.

Leaving Laura alone.

Carmilla leapt from the dragon and into the night, using the momentum to slam into the machine creating the black hole and piercing it straight through. The magic exploded from it. 

Laura scrambled after her but never made it off Andromeda’s back. Andromeda pivoted, pulling Laura against her and tucking her safe and warm against the dragon’s soft belly. 

The warmth didn’t keep Laura from hearing the dragon’s screaming cry as Carmilla disappeared into the night. 

They’d been forced to return to the ship.

And now Carmilla was gone. Laura stared into space and gripped the console tighter, the pain giving way to emptiness. Carmilla wasn’t supposed to die. The story wasn’t supposed to go like that. She tore herself from the ship, walking blindly past her crew and stumbling into the side cargo room where she’d first found Carmilla’s secret. 

Andromeda was curled up in the smallest ball she could manage. Her black scales seemed dull and the smoke that drifted from her nose hardly moved. Laura’s throat was tight and she could see nothing but water through her gaze as she dropped to her knees beside the dragon. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, “I’m so sorry.”

It was quiet for a moment.

Then something soft and silky landed on top of her, drawing her in as Laura stumble-crawled with the pressure. She ended up pressed against the dragon’s warm neck, a huge wing covering her like a blanket. Andromeda curled even further around her, leaving Laura cocooned in soft warmth that smelled like Carmilla as starfilled eyes met her own. 

Laura cried into the last dragon’s neck. 

She survived. They all survived. 

And Carmilla was dead. 

#

Even knowing it was a memory. Even knowing that no-one died that day, she hurt. It all hurt as the stars wrote their way over her skin inside the memory.

How was anyone supposed to feel this much?

#

Carmilla was fiddling with the crime board they’d set up in the empty cargo bay. Even if they only had 3 of the ingredients for the prophecy, finding the fourth wasn’t going to be helpful unless they knew what they were supposed to be doing with them. 

Unfortunately, the cosmic magic at the center of the universe didn’t come with the simplest set of instructions. 

A ‘collapse all holes here’ spell would have been nice. 

She was focused on her task until the door slammed open. Carmilla hand went to her blaster, spinning around. She froze. Blaster pointed straight at Laura. 

Shakily, Carmilla re-holstered it as Laf said, “Whoa. You okay there Cap?”

Laura took a deep breath, hands on her hips, “No. But let’s do this anyway.”

Carmilla didn’t dare say anything, she cast her gaze back down to the book in her lap. The same book she’d stolen from her mother when she’d first made her escape across the universe. Laf had the sword; the black blade flickering as though blood had never coated it’s blade. 

Which only left one ingredient sitting alone on the table. It took nearly an hour as Laura crept closer. Almost absently as though she didn’t realize she was doing it.

But Carmilla still felt it in the center of her chest when Laura ran a finger softly over Andromeda’s heart, the red gemstone flaring under her touch as the dragon soul that still lived inside it rose to the surface.

Laura swallowed hard and when she turned, Carmilla was already waiting for her. Her heart almost broke again at the guilt on Laura’s face. 

“It’s not there to punish you,” Carmilla said.

Laura nodded and looked back at the heart, “I know.”

The heart of ancient’s fright.

#

If she hadn’t already been on her knees, the pain that rolled over her as the next memory took hold would have knocked her over.

“No.” the word leaked out from clenched lips, “No. Not this. Not again.”

The memories didn’t care.

But. Before the memory took over Carmilla almost thought she saw a tear on the cheek of the girl wearing Laura’s face. 

#

The dull lights of the ship were pulled forward and Laura had to watch as Carmilla stomped down the hallway, headed for the cargo bay door. The bay was empty, Danny and Kirsch off in the port to deliver the cargo to the client and the bay doors were open to let the fresh planet air in. Laura had been too busy putting the pieces of Carmilla’s puzzle to notice what she’d said. 

She’d thought it had been going so well. 

Until it wasn’t. Until Carmilla was throwing her stuff in a bag and stomping away from her and Laura’s heart was in her throat. Confusion swirling through her head. 

“Carm?” She called, racing after her. 

Carmilla turned at the edge of the cargo bay, her hand slamming into the nearest wall and buckling the metal, “No Laura. I won’t do it.”

“I’m not asking you to do it,” Laura said, “I’m asking you to simply ask her if she thinks we’re onto something.”

“You’re asking me to effectively tell Andromeda to sacrifice herself!” Carmilla shouted. 

Four to stop infinity. Four to free the night. The Word where fate is written down, the Heart of Ancient’s fright.

Carmilla had brought the book with her when she’d forced her way onto Laura’s ship; an old tome shoved in her book bag because it told her everything she needed to know about her mother’s plans. They’d been trying to unravel the other 3 talismans needed to close the black holes for good. 

The heart of ancient’s fright. 

At their core, each dragon had a glowing gemstone heart, imbibed with their essence and everything they were. Carmilla and Laura had been laughing as they’d run through the options and Carmilla’s hand had been on Laura’s hip. Even as Laura tried to focus, her lips had curled into a smile as Carmilla’s hands snuck lower and lower. 

The dragon rider clearly had plans that weren’t research. She’d pressed kisses into Laura’s neck; her girlfriend’s voice had rasped softly in Laura’s ear. The morning had been full of promise.

Until Laura had reached an epiphany. 

“Just because I was willing to risk my life to save yours it doesn’t mean that I’m willing to lose my dragon.” Carmilla said. Her eyes were practically glowing as the starlight circles she shared with Andromeda started filling her brown irises. 

Laura held out her hands, shaking her head, “I’m not saying you have to. Carm, all I’m saying is that heart of ancient’s fright sounds a lot like a dragon’s heart.” She tried reaching for Carmilla, “Of course I’m not saying we hurt Andromeda.”

Carmilla snarled and Laura pulled her hand back, the anger in Carmilla’s face cutting painfully in her chest, “She’s the only dragon left in the whole universe. If a dragon’s heart is the ingredient then you’re saying we have to kill her.”

“There have to be others…” Laura tried.

“There aren’t.” Carmilla cut her off. She rolled her eyes, “And here I thought you were always talking about being a hero. How’d you rationalize this one Hollis? Somewhere alongside tying me up in your brig for 14 days?”

Laura threw her hands in the air, “I’m not some all powerful cure for the end of the world, Carm! But at least I’m trying.” 

The anger was still on Carmilla’s face but there was fear tinging it in the lines of Carmilla’s mouth, the sheen in her eyes. “Andromeda is my dragon. Laura, do you even know what that means? It means that she’s a piece of my soul. That we’re connected. She is an extension of me.” Carmilla’s hands were clenched at her sides; the stars still in her eyes as she almost begged Laura for something. 

Laura wasn’t sure what.

“She’s the only thing I have left,” Carmilla continued, “My whole planet is dead. Ripped into a black hole that’s just one more piece in the Dean’s plan to cut the universe open like swiss cheese and Andromeda is the only thing that still remembers. The only thing. I don’t even remember. I remember the vague images of my mother’s face but Andromeda is the one who remembers how she made us smile. I remember that the air smelled like cupcakes but Andromeda is the one who remembers that we’d giggle and try to swallow the air whole. I remember what I can but she’s the only one who knows what it felt like because my memories and their feelings were stolen from me.”

She’d let Laura step closer and Carmilla’s hands closed around Laura’s arms, desperate for something, “They were stolen from me, Laura, and Andromeda’s the only piece I have left of them. Of the way things felt. She’s all I have. She’s it. Everything else is just empty and apathy except for the pieces that she still holds because mine are gone. A whole civilization and she’s the only one who remembers what all those lives felt like.” Carmilla’s voice choked, “And you want to kill her to try and stop my mother?”

Laura tried. She really did. She kept her voice soft and held Carmilla tight, “I don’t want to, Carm.” Her words were almost breathless, “I don’t want to but what if that’s all that stands between the world ending or continuing on? Don’t we have to save everyone?”

Carmilla broke from her grasp and lifted her chin and Laura had never felt so cold before, “Maybe you do.” Carmilla face had gone sharp; her voice tired, “But I’m no-one hero, Laura.” She whistled and Andromeda dropped from the sky to land behind her. Carmilla threw her bag over her shoulder and climbed onto the dragon’s back.

“Carm,” Laura felt like the earth had been yanked out from under her, leaving her with unsteady legs and dust in her lungs, “Carm, don’t.”

Even now, Carmilla looked like an Empress perched on dragon-back, “I’m done, Laura.” Carmilla said, “Find someone else to play your hero.”

The great wings moved and they were gone. 

“Carm!” Laura raced after them as fast as her trembling legs could take her. It was enough to see Carmilla and Andromeda soar over the port, getting smaller and smaller as they headed to the stars. Their shadow was all they left behind and she was just able to touch the edges of it before it disappeared entirely. Lost to space.

Laura put a hand to her mouth, trying to keep another shout in. A plea for Carmilla to just come back. A sob that might make Carmilla return if only to wipe away her tears.

“Cap?”

She looked over to see Laf, Kirsch, and Danny staring at her.

“I’m fine,” Laura said, ignoring how the words came out waterlogged. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

As she took off, the tattoo burned itself into her skin as the memory sank into her flesh. She gritted her teeth and kept going. It was only once they were on course that Laura flicked on the autopilot, climbed into Carmilla’s empty co-pilot chair, and sobbed. 

#

Carmilla wasn’t sure why she was sobbing but as the memories washed over her, burning her throat and painting themselves in red and blue and gold across her skin, she knew she was. 

She could only hope it would be enough to bring Laura back.

#

Laura was following her. She’d accused the ship of being empty but now Carmilla could see Laura lurking in every shadow, pulled along behind her like a missing limb. Carmilla would go to the kitchen and Laura would show up minutes later. She’d visit Laf and Laura would be waiting. She’d head to the dragon bay and soft footsteps tracked behind her. 

Curious, Carmilla made her way to the pilot’s loft and plunked into the co-pilot chair. She waited. And waited. Ears perked for the soft padding of footsteps. 

They never came. 

So Carmilla slithered back down the ladder and into the common room; her flask in hand. Mere minutes later, Laura was sliding into the chair beside her with a plateful of french fries and a small bowl of gravy. 

Neither said anything. Both staring out the window as Carmilla fiddled with Andromeda’s heart while Laura picked at her fries. 

When Carmilla held out her flask, Laura poured a few drops of memory into the gravy.

The pattern continued. 

They established a routine. Carmilla hadn’t had one in centuries but she could remember the mind-numbing emptiness when her tattoos were still white and the way Andromeda would literally drag her out of bed and force her into the day. Perhaps not the kindest of methods but the routine had been appreciated. Manageable. Actions to do and follow.

Actions that allowed a chance for feelings to sneak in again. For the synthetic memories to do their work and let her feel anything. 

Annoyance at the dragon’s eye rolls. Fondness for Andromeda’s rumbling purrs. 

The routine had helped and with Laura following her steps, it was all she could offer. She’d roll from the dragon bay with bed head and eyes barely propped open at the pre-noon hour before throwing herself into the wash area. She’d pass out the door, mildly more awake, as Laura walked in. 

Not touching. But passing close enough to feel the heat of her. 

Next step was coffee and by the time Carmilla was finished her first cup, Laura would be pulling out a hot chocolate. They didn’t have to speak on it anymore, Carmilla would simply hold out the flask and hope that Laura would accept.

That she was still willing to fight. 

The memories would swirl in the hot chocolate like foam. 

Once the hot chocolate was nothing but a brown stain on the glass, Carmilla would make her way to Laf’s improvised library/research room. Laura would show up within ten minutes and most of the day would be spent trying to figure out a way to prevent the universe from ending. 

The evening was spent on everything else. In order to keep out of the watch of their mother, Carmilla spent most of it flying in whatever direction suited her fancy. No rhyme or reason to their course. If she strained her ears hard enough, she could make out the click of Laura’s needles as she attempted to knit herself some kind of scarf. 

It had been two weeks and they were already drowning in scarves. 

The first time Carmilla broke the routine, it was an accident. Mostly because she broke her alarm clock and was late getting to the wash area. Instead of passing by each other, she and Laura reached the door at the same time. 

Laura blinked, uncertain. Uncertainly had always made Laura spew words, “Oh, um. Sorry,” She said, “Go ahead.”

Carmilla shrugged, knowing that it made her robe gap slightly at the front. Star map on full display. “No. It’s fine. You can go.”

“No,” Laura shook her head, “You go ahead. I can get soapy and naked some other time.” Her eyes went wide and Carmilla had to choke down a laugh, “I mean. I didn’t. I. I bathe soapless and with my clothes on!”

She fled the scene and Carmilla walked into the bathroom with a smile on her face. 

Routine worked when you started building within the framework. 

That night, she cut out of the pilot's chair early after a blazing fast looping course that she hoped would shake off her mother and maybe even bother the actual pilot on board. Carmilla ended up in the kitchen, staring in the cupboards. She could totally do this. 

It would be fine. 

Twenty minutes later and the rations hydrator blew up in her face. 

Someone sniggered behind her and Carmilla whirled around to give Laura the stink eye. Then, chin up, she calmly walked out of the kitchen like she hadn't lit her eyebrows a little bit on fire. 

Laura laughing was better than getting her to actually eat something nutritious anyway. 

Three days later and Carmilla was pretty sure she’d covered up the eyebrow incident. Still, she didn't like the way that Laf would smirk at her and waggle their eyebrows. They had to be taken down a peg. 

If Carmilla positioned a Feridian Plant right when Laura could watch them get slobbered on by the overly affectionate flower and it made the smallest smile bloom on Laura's face, all the better. 

It was in buying the flower from a passing trader ship that Carmilla had spotted some books tucked against the flower pot. Always eager for new material, she`d pulled the box set out. Harry Potter had stared back at her. While the flower had been a loan, she outright bought the books. The story of the wizards in space always made Laura smile. 

Late night conversations between lazy kisses had taught Carmilla that Laura had left her precious paper copies at home with her father. 

So she left the set in the common room.

They were forgotten when her mother found them, leaving Carmilla scrambling to fly the ship as her mother’s larger ship fired on them. They were making good time when something blew and the ship started spewing fuel.

“Laf!” Carmilla shouted in the headset, “Get up here.”

They were never going to fix that line remotely, even with their best tools. Not without JP. 

When Laf showed up, Carmilla shoved the steering console into their hands, “Don’t crash!” she said and bolted to the exit door. She flew past Laura, nearly knocking her over in her surprise to find Laura standing right by the window where the fuel line had broken as though she’d been planning on doing something about it. 

Carmilla didn’t have time to ask. She grabbed an oxygen mask, ignoring the panic that welled up after the last time, and shoved it over her face. 

Warmth grabbed her arm. Laura. “What are you doing!”

“We’ve got to fix that line,” Carmilla said, “Or we’re dead.” She hooked a safety rope onto her belt.

“You can’t go out there!” Laura said.

Carmilla shrugged her off, “I’ve got super strength and I’m immortal. I’ll be fine.”

Laura chased after her, “That’s not even the point!”

Carmilla didn’t give her time to argue. She just shoved Laura back and hit the button to close the airlock. It didn’t stop Laura’s terrified face from imprinting itself on her eyelids. It was all Carmilla could see as she attempted to navigate the side of the ship, pulling herself hand over hand. It was a nearly impossible job as the ship thrashed about, pulling in all directions under Laf’s less than capable direction. 

She thought she saw Laura’s face in the window as a particularly violent thrust dislodged her hand. Carmilla tumbled back, nearly flying from the ship but for a last minute grab on an antenna that saved her. When she looked back, Laura was gone.

Carmilla pulled herself on.

If, moments later, the ship’s speed evened out until it was flying smoothly despite pulling off fancy flying maneuvers to evade her mother, Carmilla never mentioned it. 

Just like she didn’t mention how, at breakfast the next morning, Laura’s chair was closer to her side as the memories were dissolved in hot chocolate and drunk by shaking hands. She didn’t mention how Laura’s hands brushed her own while they were pouring over the book’s old manuscripts. Little touches ensuring that they were both still there. 

Nobody flew a ship like Captain Laura Hollis. 

The novels were still waiting for them. Carmilla watched Laura eyeball them from every possible angle, darting closer and then pulling back. Finally, Carmilla couldn't take it anymore. She didn't even like the books but someone was going to read them after she`d paid the cash for them.

Patience had never been her strong suit.

With the ship on auto-pilot, Carmilla had plopped herself down into the common room couch and snagged the first book. Completely ignoring how Laura stared, wide-eyed across the room with yet another scarf in her hands, Carmilla started reading aloud. 

She read til her voice was sore. Laura never left, sitting stone still on her own chair. 

Carmilla kept going the next night. And the next. She kept reading as Laura’s stiffness slowly unravelled and she sank into the chair. She kept reading as the yarn was slowly put aside. 

She kept reading as Laura leaned forward, eyes wide as though it was the first time she’d heard her favourite book. 

Maybe, with her stars grey, it was. 

Eventually, Carmilla started to fly the ship a little more recklessly, in a hurry to get the job done and get back to the books. The loops and twists got faster, the trail quicker, the meteor dodges more daring as the speeds grew and grew. 

Until one night she slid down the ladder and was met with an angry pair of brown eyes.

Carmilla leaned back against the ladder, “Evening, cupcake.”

“What. Was. That?” Laura asked. 

“Flying,” Carmilla said. 

“No. I know flying and that wasn’t it.” There was fire in Laura’s eyes, “You’re going to destroy my ship like that.”

Carmilla shrugged, “Not my problem.”

“Not your problem!” Laura was going to kill her, “You nearly blew out the third booster because you took that turn too hard. This ship wasn’t cheap.”

She eyed Laura, “No backseat driving. You either drive yourself or zip your lip.”

Laura didn’t back away, “Oh well. I’m sorry if my post-traumatic revelation is inconveniently timed for you. Don’t destroy my ship with your atrocious flying.”

“Your post-traumat-” Carmilla started, “Oh, you mean how you can barely set foot in the pilot’s cockpit any more?”

“Still the best pilot on this ship,” Laura said, “because you can barely fly.”

“Pilot,” Carmilla said, “Sure. You know you have to fly to be a pilot right?”

Laura threw her hands in the air and spun around, “You are just so!”

“So what?” Carmilla pushed.

“Arrogant!” Laura whirled around to face her.

“Hypocritical,” Carmilla shot back.

The fire was back in Laura’s eyes and it was the only thing Carmilla could see, “Smug.” Laura said.

“Prissy.”

“Lazy.”

“Know it all.” They were standing so close that Carmilla could feel Laura’s breath on her lips.

“Nerdy.”

“Nihilistic.” 

“Afraid.”

The word left Carmilla’s lips and they both paused. Her eyes swept Laura, catching and locking her gaze. Nearly pressed together with nothing but a hair's breadth between them.

“Terrified.” Laura said at last.

Then Laura’s hands were in her hair and Carmilla’s hands were on Laura’s back and she had no idea who had moved first because Laura was kissing her. Kissing her like she never wanted to let her go. Kissing her like Carmilla was the only she knew how to breathe. It was fast and hard. Laura’s hands reaching to grab everything she could touch, hauling Carmilla closer with every touch even as she slammed her back against the ladder. Soft pulls on her lip from Laura’s teeth.

Laura kissed her like they’d never stopped kissing. Laura kissed her like they’d never kiss again. 

It was Carmilla who pulled back first, holding Laura around her waist while pushing her back slightly. Just enough to see her eyes. 

Carmilla swallowed hard, brushing Laura’s hair back behind her ear. 

Laura’s face had grown soft and Carmilla knew that her own face mirrored it back. 

“I feel you,” Laura breathed the words over her. 

The second kiss was slower, Carmilla thumb drawing circles over Laura’s stars. Soft and warm. Made of foreheads pressing together and noses brushing. A kiss that said everything was new. A kiss that said it was the first of many. A delicate sweep of tongues on lips and slow movements. 

Laura rested her forehead back against Carmilla’s, “We could. The Captain’s quarters.” A slow moving hand made her intention clear, setting a fire instead Carmilla’s stomach. 

But there were tears in Laura’s eyes and Carmilla brushed them back with her thumb, fighting back her own. 

She shook her head, “You can’t fill yourself up like that. I tried.” Carmilla said even if she didn’t want to, “I did it wrong and it left me empty. Sex,” Carmilla said, “Me. Any of it. It’s not going to be a cure.”

Laura’s eyes were closed but she wasn’t pulling away. Her hand frozen in its trail, “But you’re a good memory. I think. When I kiss you, it feels like maybe you’re cutting through those locks. I think,” she whispered, “That you’d be a good memory.”

The words were ghosts of the past and Carmilla forced herself to step away.

“I’m not some all powerful cure,” Carmilla whispered. 

Laura’s laugh was tight, “I thought I told you that.”

“I’m not going anywhere but we can’t do that. Not until you’re sure what’s a good memory and what isn’t.” Her voice hurt with memories, “but if I kiss you and it cuts you open, you may not like what you find of me. I hurt you, Laura.”

“I hurt you too.”

“And I remember it,” Carmilla said. “Sometimes I think that you’re the only thing I truly remember. The memories and the feelings. The good and the bad. We can’t do this until you do too.”

“And if I never do.”

Laura knew exactly how to cut her in half. Carmilla shrugged, “I’m immortal, cupcake. I can wait.”

#

The memories slammed through her like a sympathy. Small on their own but combining together to make something that hurt in every single way, waves of pain from which there was no release.

Carmilla struggled to look up, fighting against the waves of memory that tried to drag her under again and again. The first thing she found were Laura’s eyes, still white. The second was the star, still burning in Laura’s hand.

She couldn’t quite make out Laura’s wrist.

But.

But.

As Carmilla was forced to bow her head and let the memory burning into her shoulder take over, she caught a glimpse of Laura’s collarbones.

The black ink was turning into colour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my 75th Carmilla story. 
> 
> 75 Stories. Cupcakes. I can't believe we've come so far and seen so many Carmilla stories grow and breathe. I couldn't do it without you.Everything from your kudos and comments to your [ tumblr stop-ins ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/) and flailing gives me a case of the smiles and reminds me why we do this wonderfully horrific thing called creating new worlds. 
> 
> My thanks to laniemoriarty and writerproblem193 for betaing the work. I've never had betas before and you both made it so fun :)


	2. The Middle Seemed An Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot going on here.  
> But we all knew the day I'd write an overwhelming space epic had to come eventually ;)

Laura was forcibly trying to keep her jaw from dropping as Andromeda hovered outside the bay of the ship as they circled the planet. Instead, Laura hurried to open the cargo door and chose to ignore the fact that she hadn’t seen Carmilla in weeks. 

Not since their break-up.

She couldn’t take her eyes off Carmilla as Andromeda glided into the airlock, Carmilla’s oxygen mask thrown aside. Carmilla was dressed in even more black than normal, all leather and winged eyeliner that was offset by a high, tight ponytail that exaggerated the lines of her face into something sharp. Everything about her looked sharp. Dangerous. A ‘do not touch’ written all over her.

Except. As the airlock buzzed into place and the second door opened to allow her in, her eyes found Laura’s and they were still soft. Laura could see all the places they were trying to be hard but couldn’t quite make it. 

That didn’t stop Carmilla from sauntering over like there had never been anything between them. There was a staredown for a moment. 

Laura tried to break it, “Hey.”

Carmilla said nothing.

“You came back.” Laura tried, “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come back.”

She thought she was ready for the sharpness in Carmilla’s tone. She wasn’t. “Of course I’m back.” Carmilla said. “You still owe me that ride to the outer rim.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said.

“Oh,” Carmilla voice was just mean, “I know what you meant and I don’t care.”

She raised an eyebrow and started to walk away as Andromeda yawned and moved back into her side cargo bay. “We should talk about this,” Laura tried.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Carmilla kept walking, “You want to sacrifice Andromeda. I don’t. None of that has changed just because I love you.”

Laura’s chest constricted as Carmilla stumbled when she realized what she’d said. Something she didn’t think either had expected to hear. A first ‘I love you’. Tossed so cruelly. Tossed to be empty and coming up full. Carmilla glanced back at Laura and her eyes were wide. 

Carmilla caught herself first, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Sharp tone back. “Sorry you thought you could get rid of me, creampuff. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well,” Laura called after her, “Neither am I.”

She didn’t realize how much it sounded like a promise.

The memory shimmered and it was 2am. Laura was sitting on the outside of the ship, overlooking the city where they were docked as Carmilla walked over the edges of the ship and sat down beside her. A foot and forever away as the blue sun set behind them and darkness crept over the planet. Laura didn’t dare look over and see how her ex-girlfriend glowed in the setting sun.

“Don’t worry,” Laura said, “We’ll be leaving soon. Wouldn’t want to put you off schedule.”

Carmilla didn’t look at her, “Jolly Green Giant off meeting with Vordie again?”

With Carmilla, there was no point in even trying to hold back her sigh, “Danny likes the uniform. The Guardians do a lot of good; if we can’t stop your mother then maybe they can. We certainly can’t guard the dozens of black holes she’s made. The Guardians have the resources to do it properly.”

Carmilla snorted, “Unlikely.”

“A little optimism wouldn’t hurt,” Laura said.

“Is that why you haven’t hired a replacement gunner yet?” Carmilla asked, “Xena isn’t going to keep flying with us forever when Vordie calls.”

Laura looked off at the city, “I know.”

The silence held between them as the wind whistled softly, sweeping past them and onto the city. Although they could see the city, the sounds didn’t reach them. The wind empty of any noise but itself. As Laura watched, apartment lights slowly flicked on to reveal tableaus of life inside. Silhouettes of families and friends and people. Below them, Andromeda slept in the hold with her head poking out the dock bay door.

She almost jolted right off the ship when Carmilla broke the silence, “What do you think they’re doing?”

“Who?” Laura looked over and her breath almost caught at the way Carmilla’s face was outlined by the last blue rays of the falling sun. Her hand ached to slip between them and fill the empty spaces between her fingers with Carmilla’s. She gripped onto the ship instead. 

“The greenish star. X-578492,” Carmilla said and Laura looked up, following Carmilla’s finger.

She frowned, “That’s a whole planet. I have no idea what they’re doing.”

Carmilla shook her head, the faintest smile on her lips as she kept looking at the star, “It’s pretend, Laura. Just pretend. Just for a minute look up and imagine what those people are doing up there. What we’d be doing if we were there.”

“I-” Laura found herself at a loss for words, “But we’re not.”

“Not in this life,” Carmilla’s voice was soft, almost whimsical as she stared upward, “But maybe in another or in some other time. We’d travel the world and never visit the same star twice. Go to the singing towers and the largest waterfalls; laugh as I took you on Andromeda’s back through planets made of nothing but fluffy white clouds. Stars bursting across our skin to hold every good moment.” Laura’s breath caught as Carmilla kept talking, “Nowhere to go. No one to answer to. No one to save and nothing between us. Just you and me. Just two girls in love.”

Carmilla was saying these things and the sun was still just touching her face and her hair was blowing softly and Laura couldn’t help herself. She closed the space between them, the cold vanishing as she pressed herself against Carmilla’s side. Then slowly. Softly. Giving Carmilla ever moment to back away.

Laura kissed her. 

And Carmilla kissed her back. 

Carmilla’s hand wrapped around her waist as Laura buried her hand in Carmilla’s hair. One kiss. Long and soft and slow until she had to breathe. 

So Laura pulled away. Her hand dropped to the back of Carmilla’s neck as Carmilla’s hand stayed around her waist. She closed her eyes, unable to look at Carmilla again. Soft fingers dusted over her cheekbones and Laura was surprised to feel wetness being wiped away.

“Laura.” Carmilla said her name like it was a prayer.

“You kiss me,” Laura said, eyes closed but still close enough to feel the heat of Carmilla, “You kiss me and it cuts me open. Everything inside just blasts away with maybe’s and someday’s and how is that fair?”

She could feel Carmilla’s words, “Who the hell cares about fair?”

“I do.” Laura said.

There was a pause. Empty but full. Then a kiss was pressed her forehead, “I know.”

Carmilla tensed under her like she was expecting Laura to move away, the kiss given like she was letting her go. Laura couldn’t bring herself to move; she shifted only enough to press herself into Carmilla side and keep Carmilla’s arm around her waist. After a moment, Carmilla slowly softened beneath her. One muscle at a time as though she was finally unravelling.

A soft whistle left her lips and Laura could feel the wind of something big moving past them. Then the world grew warm. Warm and safe as Andromeda pressed herself up against their backs, letting them lean into her stomach.

Carmilla still beside her.

Laura couldn’t not open her eyes again.

So, with Carmilla’s profile beside her and a dragon behind her, Laura watched the stars.

#

The memory hadn’t been anything like she was expecting but she still had tears in her eyes as it ripped through her. All she could do was grit her teeth and bear it, focusing on reaching out. She grabbed Laura’s hand.

Laura gasped at the touch.

Then Carmilla sank away again.

#

Carmilla was the one sitting on the top of the ship when Laura found her. Those same soft footsteps that seemed to dog Carmilla’s every step and she wrapped her hand around Andromeda’s heart as they got closer. Laura plopped onto the ship next to her, the ever present shadow following her steps. She had the book of fate tucked under one arm and the black sword in her hand. 

She shrugged at Carmilla’s look, “Change of scenery. We weren’t figuring anything out with the current set-up.”

Carmilla nodded and turned back to the skyline, keeping an eye on Laf as they refueled the ship. 

Laura and Laf had been fiddling with the sword for days, running it through fire and battle to try and reveal it’s secrets. Carmilla was a little more pragmatic. 

They weren’t going to find anything that way.

She allowed herself a small smirk as Laura glared down at the sword in her lap. Thus far, Carmilla had been right. 

The silence was almost comfortable, bubbling neatly in the holes between Carmilla’s ribs as the scent of hot chocolate drifted across the small space between them. 

There was an “Ow!” and something clattered to the metal hull.

She turned immediately, “Laura!”

Laura was grimacing, hand on her shoulder with the sword at her feet, “I was trying to look at the pommel,” she said, “and might not have been paying enough attention to the pointy end.”

Exasperated fondness flooded through Carmilla as Laura looked at her sheepishly. Reaching out, she pushed Laura’s hand aside, “Let me see.”

“I think it’s just a nick,” regardless, Laura’s hands moved aside to leave Carmilla confronted with soft skin. 

She pushed the shirt aside, absently noting that the angry red lines of Laura’s tattoo had faded to a dull pink. The stars a slightly darker grey then she remembered. Something uncurled in her stomach. Healing. Laura was healing. 

Then she realized what wasn’t there and her stomach curled tighter than before.

There was no blood. No puncture wound or paper cut or bloody mark. Just soft clear skin that had Laura’s breath hitching slightly as Carmilla ran her thumb over it. 

She froze. 

Then tentatively touched one of the stars in Laura’s tattoo.

It was pure white. Not a drop of ink left in the star even as the stars and lines around it still held their ink. It looked like Carmilla’s tattoo’s had when her mother had stolen her memories entirely, not just locked them away like Laura’s were. 

The memory was gone. 

Eyes wide, she glanced up to find Laura staring down at her own shoulder and her face paler than Carmilla had ever seen. Slowly, Laura ran her own finger over the white star bumping into Carmilla’s thumb and then tangling their fingers together like Laura was afraid she was going to blow away.

Laura bent down and grabbed the black sword, examining it. Softly she said, “the sword that cleaves no flesh or blood but still can take it’s bite.” The wonder in her eyes had Carmilla’s chest tightening, “It cuts away memories?”

Carmilla just squeezed Laura’s hand a little tighter. The image of Laura in that kitchen begging Carmilla to take her bad memories away ran through Carmilla’s head like a wave of terror. Now Laura held the ability to take every memory away in her hand.

She ached to snatch the sword away and throw it into the sun.

But she was locked down, unable to move as long as Laura gripped her hand tightly.

Laura stared at the sword, tilting it as the sun bounced off the smooth blade. Her grip was tight, knuckles white, as her throat bobbed, “Everything else still hurts, Carm.” 

It would be so easy.

To let it all go.

Carmilla didn’t breathe.

Laura swallowed hard.

“Here,” Laura held the sword out to her, “I think you better hang onto this.” There was tension in Laura’s voice, her eyes unable to stay from the sword for long, but her hand was unwavering as she held the blade to Carmilla. Hands still interlocked with a grip of metal.

Carmilla took the sword and Laura’s hand immediately went to Carmilla’s hip, snatching Carmilla’s flask and taking a drink. 

And Carmilla breathed again. 

“Remember what you said,” Laura was looking up at the blue sky, “about you and me going off to some planet and never stopping. Just you and me?”

Carmilla nodded.

“Can we just pretend?”

Laura’s voice was every kind of broken but still flooded with determination and it was every kind of beautiful that Carmilla had ever seen. 

Not a request she could ever deny when Laura’s fingers were twitching and a sword was in her hand and Laura’s tattoo had a white star.

When Laura was trying to push the sword and everything it promised away.

“Sure thing cupcake.” She shoved the sword aside and sank to the ground. Laura followed, sitting just a hairsbreath away. It was Carmilla who reached out and Laura immediately tucked herself into Carmilla’s side. “We’ll go to Trapper 14,” Carmilla said, “Rent a rundown flat and drink the finest hot chocolate. The biggest library in the world is there and I’ve never been; that seems a good place to start.”

Laura’s fingers were still wound in hers, “I’ll pick you a book if you pick one for me. Then we’ll talk about them until the sun goes down.”

Carmilla nodded and forced a little levity into her voice, “Only if you promise no more sci-fi.”

“Fantasy it is then.”

Carmilla held Laura’s hand just a little tighter.

There was no dragon at their back but as the sun started to set, bright and red in the sky, Carmilla slipped Andromeda’s heart from around her own neck and settled it around Laura’s. 

So soft she barely felt it, Laura pressed a kiss just under Carmilla’s jawline.

But she felt it.

#

The memory burned and it should have been a warning but she didn’t realize where she was until the faint edges of the cargo hold came into view. Until she saw the squad of Guardians lining the exit to the ship, blocking any escape. Their black uniforms seeming to suck the light from the ship.

Carmilla screamed inside her own head, trying to get away. Block it out.

But there was nowhere to go.

This was Laura’s. 

And it hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt.

#

“Danny!” Laura’s voice was desperate as her hands clawed at Danny’s arm. Danny just yanked her arm away, resolutely not looking at her as the Guardian's smashed on the door that lead to the side cargo chamber with the butts of their blasters. Vordenberg was overseeing the operation, doing nothing valiantly urging his troops on. “Danny! Tell them that they can’t do this! Tell them!”

Her throat felt raw; the same words had poured from her throat since the moment the Guardians had shown up at the port. Danny had played it off at first, answering Laura’s questions with lighthearted banter. 

“Tell them to leave Andromeda alone!” Laura begged. 

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining the regret in Danny’s voice, “I can’t do that Laura. We need her. You’re the one who figured it out.”

“I told you that the possibility was the reason Carmilla dumped me. I was sad and crying and you said you wanted to help! That wasn’t so you could turn around and tell Vordenberg about the idea!” She tried to keep the anger at bay but it soared in her chest. Powerful and wounded and scared. So so scared.

Danny tried to pacify her but the words felt as washed out as Danny’s pale skin, the bags heavy under her eyes, “They’re not going to hurt her. We’re just going to move her to a secure facility. Just in case.”

“Just in case you decide to kill her!” Laura objected. “She’s alive, Danny! You can’t just kill her. And Carmilla, you’d practically be taking everything from her!”

Anger flashed over Danny’s face, “Just because you can’t put aside your personal feelings for Carmilla to look at the fate of the world-”

Laura roared, “Don’t tell me about my personal feelings Danny Lawrence.”

Danny had the ability to look abashed and Laura forced herself to narrow in, ignoring the way the side bay door was starting to buckle. “Andromeda isn’t just some sword that we can steal and carry on our way. She’s a real life living thing. We can’t kill her. We’re supposed to be the heroes; we can’t just kill people. Not for anything.”

“I have a job to do, Laura.” Danny walked forward again, closer to the group.

Laura threw her hands in the air, grasping for anything, “She’s the last dragon in all of existence. That’s got to make her like historically protected or something! You can’t kill history.”

“We’ll just have to hope it doesn’t come to that.” Danny kept walking.

“Danny! You can’t!” The words were all Laura had left. 

Danny didn’t get a chance to answer. Carmilla burst through the cargo bay door from where she’d been in the city with the rest of the crew. Her eyes were frantic, hands curled at her sides. Her snarl echoed off the walls,”What is going on here!”

The Guardians paused and Laura couldn’t blame them for what had to be a spark of fear. Carmilla’s eyes were almost completely filled with stars, the smallest brown remaining of her iris - fully connected to her dragon as wisps of smoke seems to play over her skin.

One stepped forward and pulled out a piece of paper, “By order of the Intergalactic Guardian Corps and Head Guardian Vordenberg himself, we are requisitioning the dragon known as Andromeda for service to the galaxy.” Vordenberg smiled. Smug. Laura kind of wanted to punch it off his face.

“Like hell you are,” Carmilla crossed her arms, “Leave.”

“If you resist,” Vordenberg said, “it would be my great pleasure to arrest you.”

“This is my ship,” Laura chimed it, “and I order you to leave. Again.”

“We can’t do that Captain,” Vordenberg said, “Not with the fate of the universe at stake. Why it’s rather like the time that I faced off against an entire hoard of Tresad armies with only-”

Carmilla was across the room in a flash, lifting the man with the proclamation up by his collar, “Last chance.”

The whirl of a dozen blasters coming to life filled the room. Most pointed at Carmilla. Laura’s hand shook slightly but she held the barrel firm, pointing it right at the Guardian closest to Carmilla. It wouldn’t be a lethal shot, her gun was modified to prevent it, hopefully they didn’t know that.

She ignored Danny’s whispered plea for her to just leave. 

The cargo bay was silent for a moment.

Then Carmilla smiled. 

A whistle Laura had never heard before slipped from Carmilla’s grin and the side cargo bay door exploded off it’s hinges. The door took the three closest Guardians straight to the ground and Andromeda sailed through, clipping a fourth as she went. 

If Vordenberg’s magic hadn’t been boosting them; they definitely would have died. Instead, the enhanced Guardians staggered back to their feet. Fully trained and ready to eliminate any human in their path. 

But Carmilla wasn’t human. Never had been. The last dragon rider brimmed with magic of her own and Laura’s eyes could only go wide as the two sides clashed together. Even as the bloodshed made her cringe, Laura couldn’t deny that Carmilla and Andromeda were magnificent. 

Blue flames poured from Andromeda’s mouth, scorching the metal of the bay and casting an eerie glow over those who were not immediately engulfed in flames. There was no room for her to fly in the small space but her wings flapped, strong enough to send her opponents to their knees as her tail lashed around to finish the job. Laura winced as it sent the Guardian flying into the wall, his bones shattering on impact. 

It was only the confinement that was limiting her movements and her bulk that made her an easy target for the blaster bolts and Laura’s heart jumped every time one hit. For now, her scales seemed to be holding. 

Carmilla didn’t have that problem. She was practically untouchable and Laura didn’t know if even she would have had the guts to reach out and try to touch. Carmilla was wild. Her steps were lithe but rather than dodge her opponents, Carmilla went right through them. Every opponent went down; their blood pooling on the ground around them. Alive or not. Laura wasn’t sure.

It was only their numbers that meant the Guardians weren’t immediately finished. 

She saw Vordenberg run from the fray and Laura chased after him. This could end. She could broker a treaty. Peace. For everyone. She could do it. She could. Between Danny and Carmilla, she was possibly the only person who could.

Then a roar ripped through the room and Laura turned on her heel as Vordenberg fled upstairs. Andromeda was bleeding; a silver gush from her belly with a blaster scorch around it. Laura had rubbed those scales, scratched them as Andromeda rolled on her back like a big puppy.

While her back and wings were hard, her stomach was soft. 

The Guardian who had made the shot was lining up a second. Laura didn’t think. She just ran. She charged across the room and bodychecked him in the side so that they both went flying and his shot went off to nowhere. She caught a quick glimpse of his face. Theo. Another pilot. They’d both been at the Academy together once. Never friends. But familiar. 

He threw a blow and the metal in his glove grazed her chest. The wound burned. Hot and red as the skin ripped away. That didn’t stop her from punching him in the nose.

She stumbled to her feet. There was a commotion off to her left and Laura could make out Carmilla in the middle of the fight. A whirling dervish with blood splattered over her chin. 

She looked right. 

And the image didn’t make sense. 

Because it was Danny. Danny screaming. Danny screaming as Andromeda pinned her into the ground with claws surrounding Danny’s neck and fire bubbling from the edges of her mouth. Hot and blue and moments from firing. The sharp claws centimeters from Danny’s skin as she struggled. 

Except.

Danny had a sword in her hand that wasn’t pinned by Andromeda’s grasp. Danny and a sword. Danny and Andromeda and a sword as black as night. 

It clicked.

Laura screamed, “Danny! Don’t!”

Danny did. She plunged the sword straight into Andromeda’s chest, right above her heart. Andromeda reared back, pulling the sword from Danny’s hand as Danny was wrenched back to her feet. Only the handle of the sword was visible, poking from her scales. It seemed to happen in slow motion. At first, they both just stood there. Seemingly fine. Then the first drop of blood fell, wedging its way between the sword and the scales. Slowly, more and more silver blood bubbled to the surface, falling like teardrops to the metal. Each one landing with what seemed a catastrophic boom.

The fire cut out.

But Andromeda made no sound. 

She was completely silent; her head simply swiveled in Carmilla’s direction. Wings falling to the ground. 

The world was quiet and empty and the last dragon took her last breath.

Danny pulled the sword out and the blood gushed, falling to the floor like a waterfall but not a drop hitting Guardian Lawrence who only wanted to save the world. Andromeda still made no noise beside the thump as her tail plunked to the ground.

It was Carmilla who screamed. Carmilla’s whose inhuman cry rattled its way through the rooftops and tore a hole in Laura’s heart. Tore a hole because that cry was made of every terrible thing in the universe. It wasn’t dragon.

It was human.

A human heart breaking into every single little piece as everything they’ve ever loved was stripped away from them. It was empty and broken and desperate and full of hope. Hope that hurt. Hope that was the kind where you prayed with every fiber of your being that this was a dream or that it wasn’t happening or that anything else in the world was going on.

Hope knew it was a lie as soon as it erupted but was all that a shattered heart could conjure. 

The Guardians fell back from Carmilla and when Laura saw her, Carmilla chest was heaving and her face was painted in her desperation. The brown was gone from her eyes; only stars remaining.

She rushed to Andromeda’s side, slamming to the ground and gathering Andromeda’s head into her lap. “No. No.” Her voice was small and broken and full of unshed tears and Laura wanted to cover the ears of every person in the room. They had no right to hear this. 

“No please,” Carmilla said, “Don’t go.”

Her hands stroked the scales of Andromeda’s head, traced a path between her horns, caressed her face, and scratched behind her ear in her favourite spot.

“Please.”

Andromeda nuzzled her head into Carmilla’s stomach. 

Then, with a clunk, Andromeda’s gemstone heart slipped from her chest and hit the ground. Andromeda did not move again.

The last dragon was dead. The last dragon rider was alone.

Carmilla screamed. A howl. A plea. A broken soul reaching to the heavens. A promise.

#

Carmilla screamed.

Nothing but her desperate grasp on memories to keep her company. At this moment, she understood the desire to rip them from her skin until the world was nothing. Until she felt nothing and everything went numb. 

Except. 

Brown eyes. 

#

Laf’s voice wasn’t a scream but their words echoed in Carmilla’s head just the same, “We have to go back to Silas.”

Silas. Her home. Her planet. Turned into nothing but a black hole.

Laf had figured it out. Silas wasn’t just a black hole, it was the first black hole. The epicenter and the start of it all. It was the place where they’ll be able to shut down all the other black holes, regardless of where her mother was. They might not have known how to do it yet but they were out of time. They had to try.

The flight would take days. They’d have to fly far on the other side of the galaxy where no-one but Carmilla had been before, proven in the map still drawn across her chest. 

Carmilla spent the morning locked in the side cargo bay, staring at the walls and ignoring the way her neck felt empty without Andromeda’s jeweled heart around it. Then she took a deep breath, left the room, and sat in the pilot’s chair.

Course: Silas.

Carmilla flew until her eyes went blurry, only letting go of the steering console when her eyes started to cross. She parked the ship in the orbit of a nearby planet and stumbled downstairs to steal whatever she could from the fridge. 

Laura was waiting. 

Of course she was. Scarves and yarn nowhere in sight as her big brown eyes bored into Carmilla’s chest. Carmilla ignored her, stuffing her head in the fridge and tearing into a package of questionable space goo. 

Laura and the dragon heart around her neck watched. Silent. Waiting. 

The edges of her vision caught Laura’s tattoo. It had grown. The new marks were dark black and were extending down her arm until they reached past the edges of her t-shirt sleeve.

Carmilla couldn’t help but meet Laura’s gaze; her frantic pace slowing under the comfort bleeding across the room like a visceral force. It sank into her bones and settled into her soul until she could do nothing but put the paste tube down, walk across the room, and grab a Harry Potter novel. 

She pretended not to notice when Laura moved to share her couch. A respectable distance between them but still right there. Like a blanket just waiting for the moment you realized you were cold.

Carmilla refused to be cold. 

The next night, sweaty palms drying on her jeans as they continued the path to Silas, she came downstairs to find Laura trouncing Laf at some kind of board game. They scowled as Laura let out a triumphant fist pump. 

“I give up,” Laf said, “Hollis is getting her groove back and is unbeatable once again.”

They gave Laura a fond smile and the high five they offered felt like it was about everything except the game. 

Laura turned to Carmilla, “Care to face defeat?”

Carmilla snorted, “In your dreams, cupcake.”

The colour in Laura’s face was better as she took another swig of memories from Carmilla’s flask. Carmilla bit her tongue and focused on the game.

“It still hurts.” Laura said. Her gaze found Carmilla’s, “It hurts, i think it might always hurt, but we can do this. I can keep going.”

After four hours, sleep heavy in their eyes, they had to call it a draw. They could have played longer but that wouldn’t have left time for the books before they fully crashed. Even then, they didn’t make it to bed and Carmilla woke up the next morning with her head on Laura’s legs. The book dangled from her fingertips as Laura snored into the couch arm.

Carmilla pulled a blanket over Laura and left for the wash room. 

The next night, Carmilla didn’t bother trying to hide her shaking hands or how the paleness of her skin made her tattoo stars look like a haunted, eerie map. One of her mother’s goons had found them, chasing them through space until they’d escaped by nothing more than the skin of their teeth. The ship had rattled and shook; Laf fighting to keep it all together as Carmilla tried to do the job of half a dozen people at once. 

They’d pulled it off. Barely.

Now the ghosts of those they didn’t have seemed to haunt the hallways. 

Carmilla came downstairs to find Laura staring at the sword again. She was perched on the edge of the desk, hands pressed tight to her chest. Breath shallow and hands unwavering as Carmilla looked on. 

“Laura.”

It was the only word Carmilla had to offer, exhaustion sapping her bones like punctures in her marrow to drain the ink from her skin.

Laura’s tattoo had grown to reach her elbow and her only reaction to her name was to reach up and caress it.

Carmilla waited.

The sword stayed. Laura went, ensconced in blankets and hot chocolate as Carmilla forced words out through the lump in her throat as the shared blanket covered her own shoulders. 

The sixth night was when Carmilla could see it. One minute the sky was nothing but stars and the next, Silas was glaring at her from the distance. Still just a speck.

But her speck.

Her speck of swirling darkness. Of blackness and chaos that drew every speck of light into itself, refusing to let anything escape. Consuming and consuming and consuming as though it could turn it’s emptiness into something more when all it did was empty those around it, never full. 

Silas. Her planet. A black hole. 

Andromeda.

Bile rose in her throat as the starred tattoo over her heart throbbed.

Carmilla ran from the pilot’s chair. She tore through the ship and burst through the washroom door to fall over the toilet. Her chest heaved and she threw up. Sweat burst across her skin and her hair instantly matted to her neck. Her muscles trembled as she tensed. Tongue heavy with acid as salt burned at her eyes. 

Silas. Home.

Nothing but death

She shivered again, bile pushing the wrong way up her throat and burning her nose. 

There were soft hands on her back, rubbing gentle circles, before her sweaty hair was lifted off her neck and twisted away. Carmilla just trembled and threw up again; her arms aching and throat raw at the force. 

Eventually she stopped, still shivering but her brain too tired to think straight. It zeroed in on the one foreign thing. The hands rubbing her arms and back. Soft. Gentle. Carmilla lifted her head just enough to see Laura and her head fell again. Muscles she hadn’t even realized she’d been using ached. She let her head plunk back down. 

The little bit of her that could still feel was flooded with shame. 

Laura lifted her head back up. Her hands smoothed the hair stuck to Carmilla’s face before a washcloth appeared from somewhere and wiped the sweat from her skin. Cool and calming.

“It’s okay.” she said.

Carmilla could only watch as the cool cloth swept her skin, Laura’s lip trapped between her teeth as she focused. 

“Hey.” Carmilla croaked.

Laura’s smile was small, something teary in it, “Hey.” Her thumb ran soft patterns on Carmilla’s cheek.

“Come on,” Laura said. 

She helped Carmilla stand, soft murmurs and touches that Carmilla couldn’t make sense of as they moved to the ship. Carmilla found herself on her couch in the common room. It was only then that Laura hesitated.

“I don’t think I can read tonight, cupcake,” her words were barely a croak.

“I know.” It shook Laura to action. She reached out, grabbing the book and popping it open to the bookmark. Then she stared at the page, eyes bouncing between Carmilla and the words, “If it’s okay?”

Something like warmth flooded Carmilla’s bones. She nodded to the blanket, “Only if you pass me that.”

Laura grabbed it then paused. “Or,” she said, looking down, “you could come here.” She still wouldn’t meet Carmilla’s gaze but her arms opened slightly, the red heart still hanging from her neck.

Carmilla held out for no more than ten seconds. She had nothing left to lose that night. 

Just as Laura was retracting her arms, blush light on her cheeks, Carmilla fell into her arms. Pushing them both back to lean against the couch arm, she found herself smooshed between Laura and the back of the couch. Laura’s arm around her and her head perched just above Laura’s heart.

“Comfy?” Laura’s voice was shaky.

“You’re an adequate pillow, cupcake. Congratulations.” Carmilla purposely kept her tone wry. Even then, the exhaustion still crept in.

But when Laura started reading, tentatively making up voices for each character, Carmilla couldn’t be anything anything but soft. She sank into Laura and her hand grasped lightly at the heart around Laura’s neck. A light heat on her palm as Laura’s words fell over and through her. 

She woke up in the Captain’s bunk. Alone but with the blanket tucked tight to her chin.

Forcing herself to her feet, she found little reasons to make everything take longer. She definitely needed to condition her hair twice. Breakfast was burnt and needed to be redone. Her boots could use an extra polish even though she could never remember polishing them.

Through it all, Laura was nowhere to be found. Carmilla’s constant shadow had vanished and it was something to wrap her head around as a distraction. 

Eventually, Carmilla ran out of distractions.

She dragged her feet to the cockpit and stared at the ladder. She rubbed her hands on her pants, palms already sweating as the tattooed star that was Silas seemed to pulse on her chest. The ladder was cool on her palms as she grabbed it. A single foot on the bottom rung. 

But Carmilla still did not look up.

She just gripped the ladder tighter. 

And tighter. 

Until time passed away and all she could see was the one time she’d tried to fly to planet after it’s destruction. Her throat had tasted of ash for weeks. 

She gripped the ladder hard enough to be wary of breaking of it. Shoulders tight. Then Carmilla forced herself to look up.

Laura. 

Carmilla scrambled up the ladder. 

Laura was pale but with her hair pulled back into a low ponytail all Carmilla could see was the determination on her face. Her shoulders were too straight and there was a rigidity to her movements. 

But her hands were on the steering console. 

The ship was flying. 

She glanced over at Carmilla then looked back at the sky, “Figured it was my turn.”

Carmilla nodded. Unable to say anything else but her tattoo tingled like a weight had been lifted off it. 

“You don’t have to stay,” Laura continued, “I know it’s hard. I’ll be okay.”

Carmilla went for bravado, “But how will you know where you’re going cupcake? No-one’s flown these stars in years. Even the great Captain Hollis needs a map.”

Laura’s smile was tinged with a hundred different emotions that Carmilla could almost remember, “I know these stars. These are yours, Carm. I could never forget your stars.”

Carmilla’s breath caught. 

Soft fingers dancing over star maps with a kiss pressed to every star.

Carmilla plunked into the co-pilot’s chair, leg over the armrest, and flicked a switch. Laura shook her head. Carmilla gave her a smirk.

As the day went on, Carmilla got to watch her stars draw themselves down Laura’s forearm.

#

They hurt. They hurt. Everything hurt and she wanted them gone. Carmilla wanted to rip the memories from her skin and never feel again. 

Except.

She could feel Laura’s heartbeat under her fingertips. 

#

Carmilla’s scream still echoed through the spaceship and the only movement Laura could make was a dropped jaw and shaking hands. Her feet seemed glued to the ground, unable to move and Carmilla side and do something. Anything. Instead, all she could do was watch as the silver blood drained from Andromeda as Carmilla’s face slowly contorted with rage. Her hands dripped with silver as she slowly got to her feet. 

Her voice was soft but every kind of hard. “I will kill you all.”

Every gun in the room but Laura’s pointed at her. Carmilla kept moving; her eyes locked on Vordenberg as her pupils were made of nothing but stars. 

It wasn’t the guns that stopped her.

Danny picked up the red gemstone heart, still slick with silver blood, and Carmilla froze. Spun. Turned. Growled, “Give it here Lawrence and I’ll kill you last.” 

Danny’s blaster came up, pointed directly at Carmilla as Danny held the heart tightly, “Not a chance Karnstein.”

Laura was running before she could realize her feet were moving, “No!” she shouted, “No. No more killing.” She threw her body between them, hands extended to either side like she could somehow hold them both off. 

Carmilla was warm under her fingertips.

“Get out of the way, Laura,” Carmilla growled, “I have to make a smear out of Xena here and this is going to get messy.”

“Carm. No!” Laura said.

“Get out of the-”

“It’s my fault!” Laura shouted and Carmilla stuttered to a pause. Body tense. Coiled. “I’m the one who had the idea about the dragon’s heart and I’m the one who told Danny. It’s my fault.” The words tore through her chest, guilt roaring to life. She stuffed it down. No time for that now. “It’s mine, Carm. And I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” She could feel the tears on her cheeks, “It was never supposed to go like this.”

Her hand was shoved away where it rested on Carmilla’s chest and Laura let it fall. Carmilla grabbed her, fingers digging tight into Laura’s shoulder where these stars, these cursed stars around them, were drawing themselves to life. 

“300 years of friendship,” Carmilla’s voice was barely controlled, anger and fear and loss leaking through, “Can you even imagine? We saw stars get born in the Neidien galaxy and rode the waves of the Algitior sunbeams through time itself. The ruins of dead planets. Nothing but ashes between our fingers. All those memories. All that life to end like this!”

Laura’s breath felt caught in her throat as Carmilla’s starry eyes bored into her. “For what?” Carmilla spat the words, “For you?” She let go of Laura was a snarl, pushing her away and then grabbing her again, “Of course for you! Always for you. Andromeda had all my memories inside her but you were the only thing I could even begin to feel any more.” 

Then a gag clamped around Carmilla’s mouth. Chains on her arms from Vordenberg guards that they had been too busy to notice drawing close. Carmilla was forced to her knees, the struggle over before it had even begun. Her muffled cries and limited movements quickly slowly as the guns pointed at her temple.

“Let her go!” Laura said but she was just shoved back into Andromeda’s cooling corpse. 

“Well then,” Vordenberg sauntered over, “That was quite dramatic wasn’t it? I rather thought it was a tad over the top but you younguns with your emotions. Ah. i remember it well. Alas, the story will have to wait until we are all safely ensconced back on my ship.” He held out his hand to Danny, “if you would hand the heart over, Guardian Lawrence.”

Carmilla’s muffled cries got louder.

“Danny, you can’t,” Laura said.

Danny looked down at her hand. The heart seemed to glow in her palm, the blood slowly leeching off it and dripping between her fingers. In her other hand, silver slid down the sides of the black sword. She looked back at Vordenberg, “I think Laura should hold it until we know if we need it. If we need it we can take it back and if we don’t then she can give it back to Carmilla.”

Laura’s jaw dropped. Carmilla’s cries quieted.

Vordenberg scoffed, “Oh come now. You’re really going to trust the young lady with the keys to the universe? No no. We’ll take good care of it.”

“We weren’t supposed to kill the dragon,” Danny said, her grip on the heart tightened, “We were supposed to capture her. Just in case.” 

“Hand the heart over,” Vordenberg snapped, “That’s an order.”

The ship was silent for the first time since Vordenberg had boarded. Then Danny raised her chin and pulled her hand away, “No.” She raised the sword, pointing it towards him.

Vordenberg inclined his head to the side, “Such a shame.” 

Danny never got to lift the sword again. A thin red line appeared along her throat as one of the guards, Theo, stepped back. The air seemed to still. A single drop of blood sliding down Danny’s throat to touch the edges of her uniform. 

Then the blood fell and Danny dropped to her knees. The sword and heart fell to the ground with a clatter and, even as Laura shoved past the guards and leapt to her side, Danny’s last words were lost in a gurgle of blood. Unknowable.

“So unnecessary,” Vordenberg picked up the heart and the sword, “ah well. We carry on. Miss Karnstein is next I suppose but perhaps we could finish it with a tad more aplomb? After all, it’s not every day one gets to kill the last of the vicious beasts known as dragon riders.” He gestured and the guards followed, dragging Carmilla with them.

They left Laura alone. Her eyes felt glassy, begging for her to blink but she couldn’t quite figure out how. Everything felt muted. Hollow. She watched aimlessly as red blood and silver blood swirled together on the floor around her as she sat between two corpses. Her hand went to her shoulder, nails biting into the skin there and it only brought up the memory of Carmilla’s touch. Words harsh. Grip hard. Hand soft.

Carmilla was next.

Laura reached out and slowly pulled Danny’s blaster from her belt.

They were going to kill Carmilla. 

#

It hurt.

Carmilla wanted to look down. To look at Laura’s wrist. 

But she couldn’t. All she had was hope. 

Because if Laura wasn’t her soulmate, then this was all for nothing.

Nothing but hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for their feedback on this. This story has been an experiment from start to finish and you wonderful cupcakes have just done a marvelous continuing to help me grow as a writer and understand words. So thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Everything from your kudos and comments to your [ tumblr stop-ins ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/) are amazing. Just stupendous.


	3. The Ending, A Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four to stop infinity. Four to free the night.  
> The Word where fate is written down, the Heart of ancient’s fright.  
> The Sword that cleaves no flesh or blood but still can take its bite,  
> And when the stars come home again, the Love that’s writ in light.
> 
> May your stars be writ in light and thank you for coming with me on this experiment and this world I've come to love. here's where we see if it all pays off.

Carmilla stared out the window at the rocks floating just beyond them and couldn’t help but wonder which ones she’d once walked on. Silas spun blow them. Ashes and dust and rock. No longer a planet, just a bunch of pieces. 

Beyond the remnants of her planet hung the black hole where her sun had once shone. The sun that rose every single day until the day it didn’t. The sun that had watched thousands of years of dragon riders. The sun that had watched the day Carmilla had climbed crumbling cliffs far taller than herself and met Andromeda for the first time. 

Gone. 

All gone. 

Her chest hitched but Carmilla kept her eyes on the rocks any way. If she didn’t, her eyes would wander to the door. Then her feet would follow. She’d find Laura. Carmilla put a hand to her chest, eyes on the sky as she rubbed the star tattooed over her heart. She’d find Laura and she wouldn’t be able to keep from checking if Silas’s star had formed on her skin.

If Laura’s star was just a simple black dot or the more intricate soulmate star. 

So Carmilla had ended up here because it was the one window that showed her everything she’d never thought to see again. She perched on the edge of the bed and just looked out the window. The window in Laura’s old room. In the Captain’s quarters

Until, “We’re here.” Laura’s voice was soft, her hand hesitant on the doorframe.

“I know.” Carmilla kept staring at the stars. 

“Laf wants to go down in a couple of hours, check out the planet.”

Carmilla nodded. 

She could practically feel Laura’s hesitancy but the next words slipped out anyway, “Can I,” Laura asked, “Can I join you?”

Carmilla said nothing but shuffled slightly to the side. Moments later, the heat of Laura was beside her. The kind that curled into your bones like a blanket over your shoulders. She let her eyes drift just enough to take in Laura’s peripheral. Light was limited, any outside the ship drowning the black hole, but Carmilla could still see the slight drop of Laura’s mouth and the softness in her eyes. Her hand wrapped tight around her own wrist.

So as Laura stared at Carmilla’s dead planet, Carmilla stared only at her. 

“It’s not like I remember it,” Carmilla said at last, “Changed more than I ever expected.”

A universal truth.

Slowly, softly, a hand slid into Carmilla’s own and she latched their fingers together, giving Laura’s hand a squeeze. They watched the remains of Silas dance, fighting the pull of the black hole’s gravity and bouncing off each other like shooting stars just waiting to explode across the night sky. 

Then Carmilla turned Laura’s hand over, detangled their fingers, and looked at her wrist. 

She’d watched the stars grow down Laura’s arm for their entire journey to Silas, mapping them against her own. So she knew where Silas would live, cradled between the veins and tendons on the inside of Laura’s wrist. 

Soulmate or not.

So Carmilla looked. Stars filled Laura’s skin even as her other arm remained bare, familiar and neighbouring constellations whirling over the skin. There were even a few on her palm from where they’d taken a wider circle to check for other ships. All dark black ink.

But Laura’s wrist, the soft spot where her veins poked to the surface, was empty.

Empty.

Neither simple star nor soulmate mark. Just an empty circle of bare skin that the star map refused to touch. Barren and empty like the black hole that had swallowed Silas’s star and Carmilla realized there was no longer a star to even be drawn on Laura’s skin. All she had left was the emptiness. 

Alone with a star that would never be written again. 

Carmilla pulled back but Laura’s other hand grabbed her, yanked her back in and held her tight. Carmilla’s palm pushed against that empty space, soft and warm. 

“I want the memories,” Laura said, “all of them. I thought I didn’t but… I think I do. Every single one no matter how much they hurt because they’re mine and I will not let anyone take them away from me. Not your mother and not some star map. They’re my memories.”

Laura’s words burned fierce and true and Carmilla looked up to find Laura’s gaze baring into her as though Carmilla could feel the thrum of blood racing through her veins. “I want the good ones. The happy ones where I get to laugh and smile and replay a hundred times over. But I also want the bad ones. The sad ones and the angry ones because they’re my memories and my feelings and they’re important because they’re mine.” 

Her hand came up, a phantom touch over Carmilla’s soulmate mark despite the fabric between them and Carmilla’s tattoo seemed to pulse, “I want the ones that are written in tattoo ink and I want the ones that were stolen and I want the ones that refuse to write on my skin.” Her hand came back down, pressing Carmilla palm back against that empty hole in the tattoo, “I want those memories too, Carm. Regardless of what any tattoo says about having them or not. They’re mine and they’re so so full of every kind of feeling.”

She captured Carmilla’s hand between her own, “I’m going to keep drinking that gross synthetic stuff and I’m going to find your mother to make her give them back. Because she doesn’t get to just take them. Mine and,” Laura paused, “yours too, if you want them?”

Laura left it as a question, her hands clammy where they held Carmilla’s. All Carmilla could do was look at her. This girl that she had crossed galaxies with and loved and lost and loved again. Her hair was full of flyaways that glowed around her head and her eyes had dark rings from the stress of flying but her eyes still glowed and her skin was warm and she smelled like chocolate chip cookies. Her tattoo black and ever growing. 

Then Laura’s hands slipped away, “or not. If you don’t. That’s okay. I’m not going to-”

Carmilla grabbed her and the words finally came, “Cupcake, the universe is huge and it’s arbitrary and uncaring. One moment you can get sucked in a black hole and the next moment you get pulverized by a meteor. Really in the grand spectrum of things, it’ll mean nothing.”

Her hands slid down, tracing the soft skin of Laura’s forearms. 

“I really don’t know if that’s a no to your memories or not.” Laura said. 

Carmilla smiled

Her fingers traced Laura’s stars for the first time in months, soft and slow. 

“The point is,” Carmilla said, “if nothing means anything then the only thing that means something is what we make. Look at me. I used to use hopelessness as an excuse of all the awful things that I did. Until this prissy little overachieving starship captain who I was totally planning on ditching at the first available opportunity unravelled all of my plans.”

The tattoo over Carmilla’s chest, the place where Silas lived, itched. Memories she’d never be able to see sinking into a place that she’d thought would stay forever empty. 

Her hands never left Laura’s stars. Her stars. On Laura’s skin.

“Because she thought we all deserved better,” Carmilla said, a small smile as Laura stared at her with watery eyes, “we all deserved better. Even me. And yeah, you are flawed. And struggling and uncertain, but Laura,” Carmilla raised Laura’s wrist and pressed the softest kiss to the bare skin where Silas’s star should have gone.

“Laura, it’s so beautiful the way you try.”

The tears came then, making Laura’s brown eyes shine like rubies, as she shook her head but never broke Carmilla’s gaze. A hand landing on Carmilla’s heart.

“What?” Carmilla asked. 

“To hell with stars and soulmates,” Laura choked out. Then she reached out and kissed Carmilla; one hand in her hair and the other pressing tight to her stars. Soft and salty and so very very full. 

And Carmilla let herself kiss Laura back. She let her hand wind around her waist as the other stayed glued to the stars on Laura’s arm. Laura pulled back just enough to break the kiss, pressing herself against Carmilla and practically clinging to her neck with one hand to keep them together. “I don’t want to wait for the universe to draw some star on my skin to be together. I don’t want to pretend that what I feel about you isn’t some complex thing full of every kind of emotion from good to bad and everything in between because it is like the gravity that my world turns around. “

Her breath came in light puff on Carmilla’s skin and when Carmilla caught a glimpse of Laura’s eyes, she saw a reflection of stars staring back at her. “And yeah, we could talk ourselves out of it because I’m broken and you’re broken and the world’s about to end but being broken doesn’t mean we’re empty.” Laura paused, emotion think in her throat as her hand found Carmilla’s stars.

“I love you,” Laura whispered, “Why shouldn’t that be something full?”

“I love you too,” Carmilla said, “I love you too.”

And as her tattoo itched, Laura’s heat soothing it, she had no doubt it was true. 

#

When Carmilla wretched her eyes open, all she could see was the smallest star dancing over Laura’s fingers. 

#

The crew had been confined to their rooms since Vordenberg had come onboard, only Laura exercising her right as Captain to oversee what was going on. Only Laura had watched Andromeda die. Now, he forced them all into their doorways to watch what happened next. 

To watch Carmilla die.

When Laura got there, Carmilla was on her knees with Vordenberg standing over her. The sword in his hand. 

“Please don’t do this,” Laura said. Her words felt clumsy in her mouth. Tongue dry. Carmilla’s gaze snapped to hers and as much as Laura could feel Carmilla looking at her, she didn’t take her eyes off Vordenberg. She had to make him understand. Stop. See. 

He raised the sword. Carmilla’s head dropped, waiting for the blow.

Danny’s blaster was hot in her palms, a quick surge of heat as she pulled the trigger. The buzz vibrated in the air, loud before the plasma had even left the blaster. One second or eternity. Laura’s hand held steady through both.

Then the blue beam pierced Vordenberg’s chest. The sword clattered the ground. 

She could feel Carmilla looking at her again; the only thing Laura could feel as the itch of new memories ripped through her tattoo to sink into her shoulder. Another memory she didn’t want. 

She dropped the blaster. Carmilla stared. 

Carmilla was alive. 

Vordenberg’s blood was red. Just like Danny’s. 

#

The memories burned. They burned and they hurt and this one was so fresh that it screamed across her skin, burning it’s way through her wrist because it had never gotten a chance to rest in the place where it truly belonged. 

Now and then. Then and now. Eternity all bundled together in one place. 

Because this was when the memories had been ripped from Laura’s skin

They’d gone down to the planet in a small ship, as close to the black hole as they dared and Laura’s hand had been wrapped in Carmilla’s as they flew in. Andromeda’s heart was around Laura’s neck. The sword in Carmilla’s hand. The book in Laura’s backpack as Laf stayed on the full ship and took samples through all the automated machinery. 

Four to stop infinity. Four to free the night. 

She’d watched as Carmilla had seen Silas once again, her face drawn tight in the light of the tiny spaceship they used for planet-side landings. Laura could only see the dead remains of mountain ranges, like blackened ash dragons never to awake, but she had to wonder what ran through Carmilla’s head. Carmilla was home for the first time centuries. 

She’d meant to ask. 

Then Carmilla’s mother had appeared and they’d run out of time. Laf had taken off to distract her while Laura had stopped the smaller ship and started frantically paging through the ancient papers. Trying to find anything that might help. That might explain. 

The black hole pulsed on the horizon and Laura didn’t even want to think about what the Dean was doing.

“Laura,” Carmilla put a hand on her shoulder, leaning over from the copilot chair, “we have to go.”

“There’s nowhere to go!” Laura said, “We have to try something, Carm. You know we do. This passage,” she pointed, “you said it looked the most promising. Some incantation that used the same intonation of the prophecy or whatever.”

“They appear linked but that passage is some kind of magical spell and I’m not sure if it’s about closing door or opening them. No-one spoke that dialect even when I lived here!” 

“We have to try,” Laura said.

Then Carmilla’s hand was on her shoulder, thumb by her ear and pinky splayed to touch the white star on her shoulder. Her forehead on Laura’s, “We have to try.” She repeated.

Laura kissed her softly then passed her the book. She held her breath as Carmilla read the passage, a language Laura barely understood flowing smoothly off Carmilla’s tongue. 

Nothing happened. 

“That can’t be it!” Laura said.

“Laura-” Carmilla started but Laura threw the hatch open and tumbled outside, hitting the dirt hard.

“Maybe we have to be outside,” Laura said, “so it can hear us!” She knew it made no sense but didn’t know what else to do.

Carmilla followed. Carmilla followed and the moment her feet touched the ground of Silas, of her home, the planet shook. The black hole pulsed and a beam of light shot straight from the center of utter nothingness to smash into them both. The light was bright white and all consuming. Laura scrunched her eyes and still it burned, surrounding them until they were nothing to that light. 

Then it vanished. 

Except. Laura opened her eyes. 

She was glowing. More accurately, her tattoo was glowing. She stared down at her arms, the black ink was pulsing with brilliant colour and shining outward to cast shadows on everything around her. Each line a vibrant glow against her skin. Her skin was cool to the touch, like fireflies lived inside her veins. 

Turning her arms, she flexed slowly and watched as the light pulsed with her. 

Carmilla reached out, tracing the light up and down her body as even the tattoos under clothes shone visible. 

And Laura realized. 

She wanted to throw up. She watched as Carmilla’s fingers softly followed the light under her skin and all she could think was that it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. Who the hell cared about fair?

She did. 

But. 

Laura realized what it would take to close the black holes. She could hear Laf’s voice in her ear, frantic as they sailed above them. She took the earpiece out and put it in her pocket. A look up showed her the Dean’s ship, right in front of the black hole as wave after wave of magic poured off the ship trying to force whatever was inside the hole out. The planet shook, sending Laura to the ground as the ashy remains of Silas began to break apart with the force of ancient magic being ripped out around her. The universe shook and shuddered, the stars in the sky suddenly blinking in and out as the Dean tried to tear the fabric of the universe apart. 

Blindly, Laura grabbed the sword Carmilla had dropped and used it to pull the book back to her. 

She read the incantation again, words flowing easily this time. 

The Word where fate is written down

As she spoke, she gently inserted Andromeda’s heart into the pommel of the blade. An empty spot that she hadn’t realized needed to filled. “A little help?” she whispered and the gemstone flared with light that matched her skin.

the Heart of ancient’s fright.

“Laura,” Carmilla voice cut in, “Laura what are you doing?”

Laura picked up the sword turning it around and holding it back to shoulder. 

The Sword that cleaves no flesh or blood but still can take its bite,

She looked up at Carmilla, “I’m so sorry, Carm.”

“Laura. No. You were supposed to stay safe.” Carmilla was gripping her tight. She forced herself to step away but her eyes never left Carmilla’s.

“I wanted the memories, Carm.” She said, “I wanted all of them and they were beautiful and I’m so glad I could learn to love them again.” Her smile was watery, eyes burning, “I just wish I could have made a few more with you.” 

“I love you,” Carmilla said.

Laura pressed the edge of the sword to her skin as the light in her veins pulsed at the words.

“I love you too,” Laura wished she could say it a thousand more times, “I love you and you’re going to feel this for a while and then you’re going to keep going and do all those stories that you said we’d do. Because, I love my memories. Our memories. You say you’re empty but we’ve had kisses and memories and stars and dancing, that’s so much more than nothing.

“That’s a full life, Carm. A full love. Good and bad memories. I love you.”

Then, with a single swipe, Laura sliced all the memories from her veins and tumbled to the ground as the light vanished from her skin, ink slipping into the sword. The last thing she saw was Carmilla, kneeling over her in the ashes of Silas with stars in the brown of her eyes. 

Carmilla was home.

Carmilla loved her.

That was everything.

And when the stars come home again, the Love that’s writ in light.

#

Carmilla watched as the ink was ripped from Laura’s skin. The blade took no blood but the glowing ink ran out of her, forming a puddle around the sword as Laura’s tattoo went white. Whiter than Carmilla’s had ever been. She got to Laura just in time to touch her face, to run her fingers from temple to jaw as a pained “Laura!” escaped her mouth.

Then the sword exploded. 

Andromeda, a swirling dragon of pure light, spun a circle in the air above them as the heart pressed into the sword’s pommel shone wildly. Then the dragon sank down, gently grasping Laura and the sword between her claws, and took off again. 

Carmilla tried to grab her but her hand passed right through the light, Andromeda not even reacting to her presence. She tried to chase them down, racing up a mountain with her enhanced speed to follow them into the sky but all Carmilla could do was watch. 

Watch as they flew towards the black hole. Watch as they flew past her mother’s ship.

Watch as they disappeared inside.

All was silent.

Until the hole began to shudder and shake, light spilling from inside to engulf everything around it. The black hole started collapsing inward on itself, twisting and shrieking like it’s bones were finally being set into place after having been torn apart for too long. 

Laura was inside that hole.

Andromeda was inside that hole. 

She should just let them go. The hole was collapsing just like they wanted, her mother was trying to fly from the hole’s grip and Silas was settling down even as the black hole’s spasms got worse. 

But.

Carmilla said, “No.”

Her tattoo started to itch. The lines suddenly squirming under her skin like they were trying to write a new story in her veins.

She ran back to the tiny spacecraft not meant for sustained flight and threw herself into the pilot’s seat. She cranked it as fast as it could go, whipping towards the collapsing hole. Around her, the sky went from pitch black to bright light, neither letting her see. Carmilla didn’t let off the throttle once. The ship creaked. It groaned and cracked and Laura would definitely complain about it later. 

It was suicide to jump towards a black hole, to go inside it where time ceased meaning. The closer she got, the more time seemed to stretch and jump and twist. She flew well beyond how close her mother had gone and began to feel ages pass by in a heartbeat, a normal human would have died with a head of grey hair right in that seat.

But Carmilla was immortal. The last of the dragon riders. 

Saved by a madwoman solely to throw herself into a black hole to try and touch the magic of eternity. Carmilla had sworn to outlast her plans. To run and hide and never face them. She’d sworn she’d never do it.

But she’d never expected Laura Hollis.

Carmilla drove into the black hole. 

#

The girl sitting with the ghostly Andromeda curled around her looked like Laura but Carmilla wasn’t fooled. She paced slowly through the room, a nothingness of fog that hung like clouds around her feet. The girl’s eyes followed her, white glowing orbs staring out of Laura’s face. Her tattoos seemed to flash with energy, the white lines humming in sequence with tiny star that hovered in her palm. Other than to track Carmilla, neither not-Laura nor Andromeda moved a muscle.

Only the star moved, bobbing slightly up and down.

Small and bright and golden like the sun Carmilla had grown up under. 

She stared at the girl for a moment, “You’re the ancient magic that my mother was trying to get. I don’t want you. I’m only interested in Laura.”

The girl with Laura’s face smiled, “She thought you might come for her. It’s in the tail end of her memories.”

“Yeah well, I’ve gotten predictable in my old age,” Carmilla said.

“You’re but a child.”

Carmilla snorted, “Tell me I didn’t just add a few centuries trying to get in here and we’ll talk. Where am I at now? Closer to 500 or did I manage to crack 1000?”

“Even 1000 years is nothing to me.” The girl with Laura’s face tilted her head, “I’ve lived in Silas’s star for a very long time. I’m where dragons come from and the reason you dragon riders all had so much magic to play with,” Laura’s fingers stroked Andromeda’s head, “I walked on planets once just as you do. Immortal. Alive.” The girl frowned, “They called me Mattie. In a different time. A different body.” Her laugh was harsh, “I was a god.”

She continued and Carmilla’s veins froze, “Did you know your mother is just as old as I am? Just as powerful? She tried to steal my power but I took shelter inside this star before you were even born. I had my human body for all that time, magic contained inside it while I remained safe inside the star that you called Silas.”

“Nice story,” Carmilla rolled her eyes, “Don’t care. I just want Laura back and you’re welcome to stay here.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is,” Carmilla said. She raced across the room and tried to snatch the girl but magic flared and pain shot across Carmilla’s hand. She reared back, the skin on her hand turning puffy and red. Burnt. Cradling her hand, Carmilla snarled.

“Laura made a sacrifice,” Mattie said, “she shed herself to keep me safe. Denied my power, your mother ripped the stars apart to get at me. She stole memories from the people that were closest to me and used them to rip a black hole in space and time to try to get me. Attacking Silas, she tore it and me to shreds to try and get to the magic. In fact,” Mattie raised one of Laura’s hands, “I think you’re familiar with the memories she used to disguise herself and get close to me.”

Mattie waved her hand and a vial appeared. The liquid inside was black, tinged red. 

Carmilla zeroed in on it. Then frowned at the colour, “Those aren’t Laura’s memories.” 

“Very good,” Mattie smiled and Carmilla wanted to punch her. 

Then Mattie continued and it was Carmilla who was punched in the chest, “They’re yours. I’ll give them to you if you want.”

Carmilla blanched. Laura’s eyes remained white. Mattie smiled with Laura’s teeth, the muscles forming all wrong.

“These are your memories, Carmilla.” Mattie said, “The memories that were stolen from a dragon rider to provide the magic to rip open the black hole in the first place. I’ve been watching all these years and you were always something special. One might even say that I was quite fond of the young Mircalla Karnstein, desperate enough to sneak away from her parents and daring to claim one of the biggest and oldest dragons on the planet.” 

Carmilla’s memory of that night was fuzzy at best and a part of her screamed to snatch the vial, drink it down, and get the memory back. All of her memories. 

Mattie held out the vial, “These were stolen from you. You may have them back.”

Slowly, Carmilla took the vial from her and the cool glass warmed quickly under her palms. They were all in here. Her memories of her parents. Of her friends. Of her planet. Of her childhood.

Of her dragon.

Carmilla’s voice shook, “Now give Laura back.”

“She did the impossible,” Mattie’s fingers played with the small star, weaving it between Laura’s fingers, “She changed the story of the world. She protected a god.”

“Okay,” Carmilla gave up trying to stop her voice from shaking, “Okay. So she’s a miracle. And you’re a god full of ancient magic. So you can let her go now. Exactly as she was.”

Mattie shook her head and Carmilla’s heart broke, “Without a body, your mother would simply come after the magic again. Your mother couldn’t quite reach me but when she used your memories to attack me, she killed my human body. This left the ancient magic free for the taking if she could get close enough to take it. She collapsed Silas into the black hole and the only thing stopping her from getting the magic was my consciousness. Laura ripped her own memories from her skin to give me the magic a home again, while giving me somewhere to slide into and keep all this power safe.”

“So put the power somewhere else where my mother can’t get it,” Carmilla wanted to gnash her teeth in frustration, her grip so tight on her own vial that it nearly cracked in her grip, “Just get out of her!” 

“She cut her memories from her skin,” Mattie said, “Even if I were to leave her, my consciousness drifting away to time while the power remained, she would have none of her memories. She would not be the girl that you remembered her to be.” 

Carmilla closed her eyes against Laura’s white eyes and her white tattoo, no ink visible in her veins. Mentally she traced the lines that had been Laura’s tattoo, black and vibrant and remembered the way to ahd turned to goosebumps as Carmilla had run her fingers over it. Run her lips over it. 

She fought back a sob. Her tattoos itched. 

Hands shaking as her own memories sloshed through the vial she’d been given and the image of Laura’s white tattoo’s kept fighting to replace the black. 

Full to empty.

Except. 

Carmilla’s eyes flipped open, gaze slamming into Laura’s arms and tracing every line. 

There were too many. Far too many. Stars coating every inch of skin that Carmilla could see. Lunging forward, Carmilla ripped up the bottom of Laura’s shirt, ignoring the pain that whipped through her hands at the touch. She knew those lines. She knew all of them. Laura’s and the new ones. The ink was white but the patterns were familiar. So familiar. 

Those were her stars. Her stars. Her stars mixed with Laura’s.

White ink with no memories in them because Laura didn’t have the black to carry them but those lines were Carmilla’s. They were Carmilla’s journey written in the spaces between Laura’s stars. 

Two stories. One map.

Soulmates. 

She had a-

Laura was-

Carmilla wanted to cry, a lump forming in her throat. But when she looked up, all she saw was glowing eyes. 

“Get out!” Carmilla roared, her blistering hands grabbed Laura and tried to shake Mattie out of her. Her own vial was thrown aside and only saved from breaking by Andromeda’s ghost. “Get out of her!” Carmilla shouted, “You said I get one request and this is it. Leave the magic if you must but just get out of her head!”

“Very well.”

Laura blinked and when her eyes re-opened, they were brown. That same brown that had looked at Carmilla with every expression from anger to love. The brown that was the first thing to greet Carmilla in the mornings and the last thing she saw before she closed her eyes. 

Carmilla gasped, her hands on Laura’s face, searching. Smoothing her hair back and gently touching, “Cupcake?”

Laura crumpled. 

“Laura!” Carmilla slammed to her knees. She dove for Laura’s head, protecting it from the ground and sliding it on her knees. Her hand rushed for Laura’s chest but the relief to find it still moving was erased by the blankness in Laura’s eyes. 

“She’s not in there. I tried to tell you.” The specter of Mattie rose beside her, now a tall woman with brown skin. Her first body. “We call them memories but they’re so much more than that. They’re everything we are. A soul, if you like. Without them, we’re just a shell.”

Laura lay limp across the ground, head in Carmilla’s lap. Her tattoos were still white and Carmilla could do nothing but lean over her. Hands tight around Laura as though she could somehow pull her back to the girl she was. “No,” Carmilla pushed the whisper through her tears. Face wet. Fire extinguished in the face of her pain, “No no no, Laura please. Please.” 

Carmilla’s shoulders shook, her face contorted. Voice quiet. Breaking. Straining. “Please don’t leave me.”

Please.

Her soulmate.

No. Not empty. Not again. 

The spaces in her map never to be filled so that every time she looked at her own skin she’d see the emptiness that Laura had filled. 

She wound her fingers between Laura’s and there was no returning pressure. Closing her eyes, Carmilla kissed the back of Laura’s hand, unable to flip it over and look.

Look for Silas. Look for the star that was supposed to be gold but would only be a white shadow.

Please.

“Come back to me,” Carmilla croaked.

“Go, Carmilla.” Mattie’s voice was soft,” Don’t let the world take your happiness again. Go live a full life. It’s what she would have wanted. Go enjoy your memories.”

Carmilla narrowed her eyes, “My memories.” Her hands clutched at Laura but she forced herself to look up, “If you had my memories, then you must have Laura’s. She gave them to you in the spell.”

A second vial appeared on the ground, the black so dark it was almost a royal purple.

“These are Laura’s memories,” Mattie said, “both the memories your mother stole from her and the ones she cut from her skin to save the world.” A pause, “But you are out of requests.”

There was a whisper against her skin and Carmilla caught the edges of Andromeda’s nose, a ghost touch on her wrist. 

The vial on the ground beside her.

The vial tinged red was full of her childhood, of Carmilla’s planet. Of her mother and father and baby brother and dragons that flew on cliffs. It held the memory of her first ride on Andromeda’s back and the moment they’d met and Andromeda had burned off half her hair. It contained a hundred different smiles. Her six year old giggle as her father let her comb his beard or her awed grin as her mother took her on dragonback. 

She stepped forward, sparing a glance for Andromeda. The dragon reached out and pressed her nose into Carmilla’s side, nuzzling her softly. Eyes calm and understanding. 

Carmilla grabbed the vial and held it to the ghost, “I’ll trade you.”

Carmilla’s family were hundreds of years dead. She may have lost the feel of their smiles but she could still feel what Laura’s smile had felt like. The way their hands slotted together and the way Laura yelled her about taking the turns too tight on the ship. 

Mattie’s smile was almost kind, “Very well.”

Carmilla’s hands shook as Laura’s vial with it’s purple tint was placed in her hand. Slowly she turned, uncorking the bottle and gently propping Laura up against her lap. Then, with a deep breath, Carmilla held the vial to Laura’s lips and let some fall into her mouth. The liquid disappeared behind ashen lips.

It bubbled back out. 

“NO!” Carmilla scooped to race them back up, trying to catch them with the bottle and her shaking hands before Laura lost them for good. She pressed her forehead to Laura’s, Laura’s lips painted black with the memories she couldn’t swallow. 

The same black was smeared across Carmilla’s hands, memories curling in her palms like pools to be forgotten, “You were suppose to stay safe,” Carmilla whispered, “You were supposed to go on adventures in your rickety old spaceship and never get involved in any of this. You were just suppose to drop me off and never see me again. You just had to get involved,” Her laugh was a choke as she held Laura in her lap, “The beautifully, wonderfully, infuriating girl that you were who just had to help everyone. Cause that’s just who you were. Who wanted to help us all. To keep the universe full of life. For all of us.” The tears bubbled in her throat, “Even me.”

“Please don’t leave me,” Carmilla begged, “Not after all of this. Please.” 

There was no response.

Carmilla wanted to fall to her knees. She wanted to beg. She wanted to rip the ancient being beside Laura’s body from stem to stern until she put Laura back where she belonged. Put Laura back. Her throat closed with pain and unshed tears. 

The memories had to live somewhere and she’d shove this vial down the girl’s throat if she had to.

Carmilla paused. The stars had to live somewhere.

Her eyes bounced to Laura’s wrist, hidden in the glow of the star still shining bright over her fingers. The lines on Laura’s skin. “What star is that?” Carmilla’s words stuttered, hope flaring to life in her chest.

Carmilla found herself lost in it’s glow. 

Mattie’s voice was reverent “That is all that remains of Silas.”

That was her star. Her sun. The same sun she’d looked up and seen in the sky for every day over the first 18 years of her life. Every hazy memory that had been stolen from her was made under that star.

The star that was marked on her chest in brilliant gold, just waiting for it’s match. For her soulmate to have the same star. 

 

Soulmates shared their stars. Their memories. 

Except Laura didn’t have a soulmate star.

Except. 

Slowly, Carmilla flipped over Laura’s hand. The memories on her fingers smearing over Laura’s skin and making the white tattoos shine brighter. But all Carmilla could see was Laura’s wrist. For, nestled between her veins, was the white tattooed star of Silas. 

The same star that burned over Laura’s fingers with the magic of eternity. 

No way to know for sure if it would be gold if Laura had her proper ink.

Carmilla kissed Laura’s forehead, “We’re going to fill you back up, cupcake.”

A chance. 

A belief.

A hope.

Carmilla lifted the bottle and chugged Laura’s memories.

#

Some people said the black holes were made of memories. Some people said they were the place where memories went to die. Some people said they were the place where forgotten memories lived. You could drown in them until you failed to exist.

Carmilla refused to forget, clinging to the memories like the lifelines they were. 

These weren’t her memories but she would endure them. 

The memories hit and the pain slammed through her like an uncontrollable scream, twisting her veins and shattering her bones until all she wanted was to claw her own skin off to get them out. 

Get the memories out. They hurt too much. She didn’t want them. Except she did. 

Carmilla was punched in face with a memory that felt like everything she was feeling. Pain and screaming and clawing of nails of skin. It was the memory of Laura in the dark with a thick blanket clutched tight around her shoulders. Laura who only wanted her memories out and out and gone because they hurt so much. So much. They hurt as they burned into the skin of her shoulder.

Carmilla’s shoulder burned as Laura’s star wedged itself between the edges of her own map, embedding itself into her skin.

The memory burned away, sinking into her skin and for a moment the star filled sky crossed her gaze and the ghost of Andromeda stared out at her. The dragon made of light that nosed softly at Carmilla’s hands. Just for a moment. Just long enough to remember why she was burning. 

Then she sank back inside Laura’s memories. 

The memories whirled through her head, pulling her back under even as she fought to cling to reality. There was a reason she’d done this. A reason why everything hurt. A reason. She knew there was.

But before she could find it the pain hit again. Slamming into her, another memory was yanked to the surface. This one from a star pulling itself to life on her collarbone. The tattoo drawing itself over her skin in dark ink. This was the star they’d met on. Laura had been just a rookie captain trying to find herself a crew for a ship that barely flew.

The pain was bearable as Carmilla watched herself meet Laura for the first time. Watched herself through Laura’s eyes as she swaggered into the ship and felt Laura burn with rage at her presumption.

Her hand dropped from the star on her chest as the memory faded away. As the happy memory died, the pain in her shoulder seemed to triple in size. The reminder of how full the ship had once been and how quiet it was now ringing in her ears. 

She didn’t want to feel it. She didn’t want to feel any of it. Not again.

But she did. She did. She did. 

For her. For Laura.

In the next memory, Laura wanted to strangle Carmilla and something tugged in her chest as she watched herself cut off the distress beacon. Laura hurt. It hurt. She hurt.

She wanted them gone. Wanted them gone.

Or did she?

With the memories leaking through her head and her skin, she wasn’t sure what she wanted. 

Carmilla or Laura. She wasn’t sure who was feeling what but she knew that there was a tattoo drawing itself to life in her collarbones and it burned as Laura said that she deserved more.

She smashed to her knees, something spongey compacting under her weight as her legs gave out. The pain didn’t even register. She was too preoccupied with the memories contained in the next star. It swiveled and burned.

Her fists clenched as it washed over her. 

Their first date whirled through her head as a tentative smile whisked over Laura’s face only to disappear when she remembered that this wasn’t an actual date. This was a stake-out. A moment to get information. 

And she burned. She burned and burned and hurt. The betrayal burned into her own skin.

As the next memory faded in, it took her longer than it should have to place it. The pain was different. Numbness. Emptiness. Broken and barren and apathetic to the point where it felt like the pain had burned everything else way. Where emptiness lived in her chest and nothing else existed. 

She was dead. She was dead. Carmilla was dead but Carmilla was here and she had never known that Laura felt like this. Burned like this. Except she did, Carmilla knew because in the grasps that she could find of herself, she’d burned when Laura had cut that sword through her skin.

Like she was empty.

Even knowing it was a memory. Even knowing that no-one died that day, she hurt. It all hurt as the stars wrote their way over her skin inside the memory. It was never just a memory. It was real. Is real. Always real. 

How was anyone supposed to feel this much?

Carmilla didn’t know. She could barely remember feeling this much. 

Laura. Laura. Laura.

All she felt was pain. All the memories showed her was pain. They went on and on and on. Pain and pain and emptyiness and nothing. Carmilla watched herself leave. Felt Laura cry.

Andromeda died.

Danny died.

Vordenberg died.

They died and they died and it hurt and as Carmilla tried to see the girl wearing Laura’s face, all she could feel was her body on fire as Laura’s tattoos, as Laura’s memories, wrote their way over her skin. She wanted to carve them out, to take up the sword and rip them from her skin. Carmilla’s hand twitched to grab it.

Except. 

These were Laura’s stars. 

Stars that Laura had decided she’d wanted. That she wanted all of them. These were the memories and the feelings that made Laura, Laura. Stars and memories that Carmilla had softly kissed and dragged her fingers across every line.

She wouldn’t erase a single line of Laura. 

And these were Laura’s stars. 

Now written on Carmilla’s skin so that if if if if Laura was her soulmate then the memories would write themselves on Laura’s skin too. Soulmates shared their memories once both stars were in place. Ink restored. 

So Carmilla closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and stood on shaky legs. Her body on fire as a hundred bad memories swirled across her vision, Carmilla reached out and grabbed Laura’s shoulders even as her skin burned. 

“Come back.”

The tears curled in her throat, thick and heavy in her voice as she felt them run down her cheeks. Hands shaking. The star that was in Laura’s hand was hot. Carmilla pushed in anyway, letting it scorch her already burning skin to pull herself to Laura’s eye level.

“Please come back to me.”

The Laura’s eyes were brown. Brown and empty as Carmilla crumpled to pieces in front of her. Even with dozens of Laura’s memories battering at her vision and the tears distorting everything, they straight to her heart. Those eyes weren’t Laura’s. Not really.

Until. 

For just a moment, they flashed and a hand came up to cup Carmilla’s cheek. Cool on her skin. 

It was enough.

New memories slammed into Carmilla, welling up from inside her to burn their tattoos inside her. They fought through the bad memories and burst forth in glorious colour.

She saw Laura, was Laura, giggling as her Dad told her elaborate bedtime stories. Her mother taking her out to see the stars and telling her of the ships she’d once flown. She was shrieking with laughter as a small puppy licked her face and grinning as she and the older dog ran through the park. Memories of picnics and late night study sessions with hot cocoa filled her vision, all born on the back of Laura’s smile.

The first time she’d learned to fly, rolling into a loop de loop and whooping at the heavens. 

Banishing the dark from Carmilla’s eyes. 

They flickered and she was older, stuffed inside a run down spaceship with tools in her hands. Hours and hours spent learning how to fix it up. She moved into jobs. Waitressing on intergalactic stations and recording stories from star-weary travellers, each time her smile growing as the jar on her bedside table got just a little fuller. The enrapture on her face as she heard hundreds of stories from different pilots. 

No smile was bigger than the one that cracked across Carmilla’s face as Laura traded her hard-earned tips for a ragged and run down space ship. Her ship. Her own ship. Captain Laura Hollis at last. Nothing but whoops as she took to the sky for the first time. The joy in her face as her crew assembled, each one falling into the little family that she’d made. 

Carmilla felt like her skin was going to split as her own face wavered in front of her, examined through Laura’s eyes. The hint of excitement at someone who challenged her; days of bickering in the pilot’s cabin filling her gaze. Late night hot chocolates and Carmilla’s poor attempt at a reconciliatory present.

In retrospect, the tech to throw her mother off might have seemed a little creepy out of context. 

Attraction flickered in and all Carmilla could feel inside the tattoo was blushing cheeks and flailing hands. Excitement for a date that was never supposed to be. Compassion at Carmilla’s sad tale and panic as Carmilla nearly died in her care.

Trust she hadn’t expected as Laura trusted Carmilla and Andromeda to protect her the first time mother’s goons had come to call.

Pure awe at Andromeda herself. 

Her breath caught at their first flight on dragonback. An idle comment from Laura about her love of flying had caused Carmilla to extend her hand with a “ships are well and good cupcake but trust me, you haven’t felt real flying.” Settling onto Andromeda’s back for the first time, the dragon warm underneath her as powerful muscles shifted. Waiting. Coiled and ready. Her screech as they took off, arms flying around Carmilla’s waist as feelings reared their head at the unexpected hug. 

Then joy. 

Pure joy as Andromeda flew them over the flush forests of the planet below them to chase the sunset on the horizon. The air rushed past them, whipping their hair back and filling them with nothing but joy. Fresh and free and together. Laura’s hand stayed tight on Carmilla’s waist as the other extended to the sides, matching Andromeda’s wings, and even as Carmilla remembered her own smile, Laura’s joy was overwhelming. 

A soft kissed placed against her neck that Carmilla thought she had imagined. 

The softest peck upon landing. 

Memories of Carmilla’s death tried to fight their way back in but were promptly shoved back by the feeling of dragon wings over her head. A safety and a comfort against the pain as she curled up against the dragon who was just as sad as she was. 

A grief shared. 

Until Carmilla returned and colour exploded. Emotions leapt all over the place as Carmilla lost the fight to keep track of the tattoo’s progress, it felt like it was everywhere. Writing and adding to every inch of her skin. She was back in the ship and Laura was talking. The joy bubbling over so that Laura couldn’t stop talking. 

And Carmilla had kissed her. Kissed her and kissed her and there was no feeling quite like a first kiss. A promise and a hope and a blanket on your shoulders to be a comfort when it cannot shield.

They continued on and on. Love even while fighting and joy between what Carmilla had only remembered as bad moments. Nothing was ever so simple, so flat. Each emotion complex and nuanced as it drew itself through. Carmilla’s return was a mix of joy and pain. Every interaction a mix of joy and attraction and loss. 

Each one still cherished. 

Late night board games just to be together even if they weren’t allowing themselves to be and stolen kisses made of ‘somedays’ and ‘hopefully’. No-one hoped like Laura Hollis. 

Their recent days filtered in. Chocolate bars and Harry Potter. Imagined futures and counting stars. 

Laura’s stars all of them. 

But Carmilla’s too. 

Laura’s memories settled into Carmilla’s skin like they were always meant to be there and she looked down. 

Her eyes cleared, the memories sinking into her tattoos; all she could see were her own arms. 

She could still pick out the lines of her own extensive star map.

But. 

The familiar lines were intermingled with the new lines she’d watched grow down Laura’s skin. Where once had only been black lines, colour now shone. Intricate swirls and patterns that made it impossible to truly know where her map started and Laura’s ended. Two portraits of the sky in indelible ink, crisscrossing each other as they shifted and spun to show the places where they came together and highlighting the journey they’d taken to get there. 

The star over her heart, her soulmate star, pulsed under her skin. As she watched, it started to move; a duplicate star bursting from the original. The shooting star took off in a blast of colour, diving across her shoulder and down her arm. A beautiful trail behind it.

The shooting star landed on her inner wrist, settling in the tendons where blood flowed closest to the surface.

“Carm?”

Her gaze shot up. She knew that voice.

Big brown eyes were waiting for her. Ignoring her shaky legs, Carmilla lunged forward and pulled Laura to her. Brushing her hair from her face, Carmilla looked into those eyes and all she could see was Laura. She hauled her in, uncaring of the tears that poured down her face, and kissed her with every bit of breath she had. 

When they broke apart, foreheads resting together, Laura’s hand was on her skin. The fingers tracing the lines of her tattoo softly. Carmilla closed her eyes and let herself reveal in the feeling. “You’ve got colours now.”

A pause

“I’ve got colours now.”

Carmilla opened her eyes. Laura’s map had always been smaller than her own; now it coated her. The swirls and map extending across her chest and down both arms. Carmilla had no doubt that it poked down her torso to the edges of her hips.

Same as Carmilla’s. 

Her fingers followed the map, tracing their way down to Laura’s wrist. Where the blank space had once been, now shone a bright soulmate star. A quick peek showed a second star poking from Laura’s collar. 

Silas. 

They both had Silas as their stars. Carmilla’s over her heart because it was where she started. Laura’s on her wrist from her travels to find it. Each with a phantom map of the other over their skin.

Two maps joined as one. 

That could only mean one thing.

Carmilla carefully traced the star on Laura’s wrist, “How’d you find a dead star, cupcake?”

Laura paused, still close enough that Carmilla could feel the ghost of her breath, watching as Carmilla continued to trace her new star. “I think.” She paused, tendons flexing under Carmilla’s thumb as she snapped her fingers. 

Fire bloomed over her hand, congealing itself in a small star in her palm.

“The magic had to go somewhere.”

Silas. Reborn in Laura’s palm. In the blaze, she caught the glimpse of two small dragons. An unfamiliar golden one and a familiar black scaled dragon. 

Carmilla’s breath caught and when she looked up, there were stars in Laura’s eyes. Stars that she’d only ever seen before in a mirror. Ancient magic swirling behind the familiar brown. The stars twinkled as Laura asked, “Does that roadtrip you proposed extend through eternity?”

They said black holes were the places where memories went to die. Where everything was forgotten. But it was in a center of a black hole that Laura Hollis defied the odds and found them all again. 

Last dragon rider no longer. 

“I suppose,” Carmilla said, leaning in close enough to brush Laura’s lips with every word, her thumb on the star on Laura’s wrist, “That I could consider it.”

Laura’s hand found her heart, still warm with Silas’s heat, “Soulmates it is them.”

“My stars are yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you still reading, for those who love this genre, this has always been my love letter to scifi and a world that I wanted to test playing around in. Thank you for coming with me on this experiment and I hope you enjoyed this final installment of this world of magic and spaceships and soulmates. Everything from your kudos and comments to your [ tumblr flails ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/) make me remember why I love this genre.
> 
> Once again, thanks to betas laniemoriarty and writerproblem193 and to kxrnsteins for the beautiful fanart (link on top of ch1)
> 
> Stay stupendous cupcakes. <3 Aria


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